Dance with Life and Death
by The Soup
Summary: Demon slayer Dante has become a father! His 13-year-old daughter, Rena, is every bit like him: cocky, sarcastic, and annoying. The day after her birthday, Rena becomes a hunter and sets out to rescue her mother, with the help of an old friend... COMPLETE.
1. The New life

Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry.I wish I did!  
  
This story is my first DMC fiction but defiantly not my first fiction ever written in my life. However, I know this is probably gushy for some of you gore hounds out there, and personally I never thought my Devil May Cry fiction would turn to be like this. ^^' I love this story anyway. Though, there might be some abstract.I'm not sure, but love this nonetheless! Later, there will be action. For now, just be patient and review. ^O^  
  
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Chapter 1: The new life  
  
Sometimes, love makes a person do crazy things. Well that's exactly what happened to Dante Sparda. He fell in love with a human woman and now, she's giving birth to his child. Strangely, he always felt something for Trish and today it's made it's self-known. Now that a new life will be with him, depending on him, and waiting on him, will it stop him from his work? Possibly, yet not. One thing is for sure, he's been through hell and back, but certainly never a father.  
  
Dante sat in the waiting room for the news about his wife, Trish. Slowly, he was becoming eager to finally become a father, and only Trish could see that. Finally, he would be able to have an experience that was every bit different from the flames of Hell; he hardly could believe he would soon be known as "Daddy" either. Dante sighed. He glanced to the clock across from him on the wall. It read "1:30.." Dante wasn't really worrying for Trish; he'd be the last to admit it, though it certainly would be devastating if he lost her, or their child. He looked around the room. Some people glared at him with hateful eyes, others were trembling in fear. He scoffed. "Some people.will never know if I'm good or not. Especially with their rebellious attitudes and unwanted thoughts.." he thoughtfully ignored them. He was too busy waiting to cause an uproar. Dante sighed and glimpsed a small child by his mother's side, hiding behind her. Dante tried to smile, but the mother yelled, "Get away from my son, you lunatic!" She sounded scared, placing her hand in front of her son. That just pissed Dante off. " Look lady, I'm not here to hurt anybody. I'm just waiting." He argued back, sounding distant, trying to focus on exactly what he said he was doing-waiting...waiting to become a father at long last. The lady shut up right away and sat back down.  
  
Dante was getting aggravated. Later and again he looked at the clock. 1:57. Dante sighed.Then all of a sudden, he sensed some type of new power rush into his body. Like a shockwave, it rocked him with very little, but somewhat strong, force. "She's done it!" He thought rather excitedly. As the thought had dawned onto him, he immediately he knew what it was. He got up quickly and began dashing into the hall. Just as a nurse with a clipboard in her hand came in to call a name, Dante rushed past her. "I already know!!" He called back and he continued to search for Trish. The nurse watched him dash through the hallway. "Wow. He's a dedicated father already.-How did he know I was just about to call him in. Hmmm." She pondered and went back to work.  
  
Dante rushed past dozens of doors. He felt nothing.he crossed doors in haste, but slide in front of one when he heard a baby's cry. Soft murmurs sounded in the air-a lullaby sung sweetly by a loving mother. Dante smiled, sighed in relief, and quietly, let himself in, as he now knew where his beloved Trish was and that she and her baby were healthy and safe. Next to the window, Trish sat up on the hospital bed with a wrapped bundle in her arms as she smiled in warmth and pride. Dante walked slowly to her side in astonishment, his red coat flowing slowly behind him. Never in his life had he seen something so.small.so delicate. His eyes remained wide with pure awe, and then they relaxed as he smiled to Trish with love.  
  
"Here.would you like to.hold your daughter?" Trish's voice was gentle and tired as she spoke. She laid the child in Dante's strong, gloved hands. "This is.my daughter.." Dante said, tenderly stroking his daughter's cheek as she slept peacefully. "Amazing." He cradled her slighty with his arms as he gazed at his own flesh and blood. "Our daughter." Trish nodded. "What shall her name be?" Dante stopped in surprise. With his job and cases and other work, he had never thought of a name. Trish's eyes remained watching, as if waiting for an answer she'd been praying for. ".Rena. Why don't we name her Rena?" Dante thought of it then. For some reason, it just seemed to fit. Trish smiled weakly. "That's good for her. It has a nice ring to it." Rena stirred a tiny bit, and slowly, opened a pair of icy, blue, shining eyes to her father. Dante was stunned. She had his eyes. His same demonic eyes.the same demonic blood.and the same future childhood as he had remembered from his own. "No." He was incredulous. "No, it can't be." He shook his head to clear it, hoping it was a sweet dream turning into a nightmare. Nope. It was reality. "Trish.She has my eyes. And that means.my blood, as well." Dante poured out his heart, but Trish wasn't fazed. "I know. I'm not worried," She said calmly. Dante looked like he had tears in his eyes. "I never cared you were half-demon. All I knew was that you were the man I loved. And I will never regret the day I found out." Dante was amazed. This was a moment when Trish fully understood him, down to the very matters of blood and love. "I felt the same for you, Trish. I didn't know what to do about it, but I knew that someday, we would be together." Rena yawned as he handed her back to her mother. "Well, Rena proves it. And now the world will know it, too." Dante said, and then leaned against a nearby wall. "She's going to grow strong.I don't want her to be weak in this dog-eat dog world. And I will protect her, no matter what happens.." "Well, certainly she'll learn from the best," Trish beamed, feeding Rena. Dante smiled, gazing out the window as sweet, soft blue and gentle purple, morning light peeked through the horizon, and the stars faded from sight. "This is my new life. Life as a father. I'm glad this is the way things will be.." He thought, closing his eyes, sighing in relief. "She will never be alone as long as I'm here with her, and I promise, from this day, to always protect her till the day I die.."  
  
----Thirteen years later, a day after Rena's birthday..-----  
  
Dante sat in a black armchair with a fantasy novel in his hand, enjoying his afternoon until he heard the front door open and somebody walk in. "I'm back," the person called. "Did you run three times around the track?" he called back. "Yeah, I tried, but it started raining. I got soaked!" A girl said coming in through the doorway, drying off with a white towel. She shook her short hair around to drip the remaining water off and flung the towel with her right hand, which landed in a pile on the floor. She smiled briskly. "That's refreshing.Well, I guess I can say I washed of the sweat." She came and grabbed a magazine from the coffee table, plopped down onto the couch and put her feet up, flipping to where she had last left off. Dante leaned forward with a smirk. "So, next time you'll watch the Weather Channel before jogging?" He said sarcastically. Rena peeked from the top of her video game magazine and eyed her father. "Yes." She laughed sheepishly.  
  
"And she'll learn to take her wet shoes off before coming in the house, too," Trish came through the door with a gift bag in her hand. Rena grinned. "Please, you're making me look bad," She said with a wink and a brief laugh, then curiously stared at the bag when her mother threw it at her chest, which she caught. Digging about through the colored tissue paper, Rena found a small box. She took it out and opened it when to her amazed eye, a gleaming pendant of a dragon with folded wings and its tale wrapped around a sword with a red jewel in its handle that reflected the light from the lamp, was the gift she received. "But I thought we don't celebrate birthdays-" She was so overly happy, she sputtered as she talked. "We don't, this is something of a reminder that we love you," Trish replied gently. Rena gazed at the beautiful artifact of love that lay in her palm. "Okay, thanks!" she smiled and hung it around her neck.  
  
"Rena, I have something to tell you." Dante spoke softly. Rena stopped examining her pendant and smiled at her dad. "Yeah, I'm listening," She sat up as if interested in what he had to say. Obviously, it was something important and she had to know WHY. "It's something that you might find disturbing to discover," "Yeah, and so is what's under my bed and in my closet." Rena joked, soon taking notice that whatever he was saying was serious. She gulped nervously. "Uh, go on," she added. "It's about your blood as well as mine." What the heck was he saying to her? Would she even be able to handle the truth? Maybe it was best to tell her later, whenever she's older, but Dante knew she would have find out one day. " Your grandfather was a devil, your grandmother was a human. Thus, I'm half- devil." Rena couldn't believe her ears. Was she related to a legend, like the one that she read in the mythology books? Oh, how she hoped it to be. "And I'm one-third devil?" Rena said in a quivering voice, gaping distantly before Dante could answer. "Sweet!" She shouted in celebration, clenching and pumping her fists in excitement. Why was Dante so hesitant to tell her? This was way beyond coolness! "But," Dante continued, " that means you have a darkside, a darkness in your heart. Or so it may be." Rena abruptly stopped dancing and fell back into the conversation. "Darkness? Like, you mean powers?" Rena wondered, " Even if so, you should be able to over come it." Dante sounded worried as he mused. "Er, you mean I can fight back against the darkness, right?" Rena was beginning to feel endanger. Sure, it was cool being one-third devil and all, but what were the consequences? And should she fear of what was to come? "Dad.what'll happen to me?" Rena whimpered, truly worried. Was this the way Dante felt when he found out? "Rena.there's something else." He looked soulfully into her glazed eyes. "Your grandfather was Sparda. And he had a good heart until the end. So, you have nothing to worry to much of," Rena was once again in shock. "You mean THE LEGENDARY SPARDA? The one who saved the planet years before and long ago? Oh my gawd, this is waaay farther than awesome.This is -this is like, like." She was so amazed, so out of it, that she totally forgot the dangerous side of the conversation. She was flabbergasted and still trying to finish her sentence. " And you know what, I have no word to say what I want to say." A dreamy gaze went across her eyes. " I've read a lot about Sparda but.this just blows my mind away!" She laughed and then cleared her throat. " So, I'm good, right? I'm still normal, right?" " Depends on what you mean by normal." " Dad, I meant I'm the same as I always was! I don't feel any different." She held up a peace sign with a broad beaming expression. " Just think: I can fight with just more than fists and my blade.I'VE GOT POWERS!" Rena sighed, beginning to calm down.  
  
Dante hide is grimness, seeing how she unworried she was to even be related to a hero, he still knew that someday, this would endanger her life . . . " Power isn't everything, Rena. You will have to depend on your own strength, not that of your swordplay or skill." He reasoned. Rena made a funny face at his unasked opinion. " And you're afraid that I can't save my own skin? Well, that's probably true; I'm only an orange belt in Tae Kwon Do." " Exactly my point," " But didn't you take chances during your battles? Didn't you rely on luck at times? Yeah, I know you have-every person has." " And I'm not letting you make the same mistakes I did . . .You are going to be prepared." What was with Dante? He sounded as if a huge war was going to begin and that she was the purpose or cause. Was he right? Would she even have to handle a sword tainted with blood? Will she be alone or fight against the ones she loved? " Yes sir." She said, almost sleepily and bored. " Huh?" The red pendant that hung from her neck glowed bright as the sun, floating while still around her neck. It blazed once then it became dull, normal like always. Dante, Trish, and Rena were confused. " What--? " Trish muttered.  
  
The ceiling broke in a CRASH suddenly. Dante covered Rena and Trish, blocking his and their eyes. A monstrous hiss shattered the air. The cloud of dust settled to reveal a hideous and untamed demon-like beast, standing before them. It had six eyes, long, sharp slender claws, wings that stretched far like a bat and a body that looked like a Griffin. Dante stared at this creature, obviously from the darker realms. It leered at him as he glared back, eyes purely created of ice. With a swift movement that Dante had missed and before Alastor was reached for, the Griffin relative had snatched Trish up violently and was beginning to sweep her away. " No!" Rena tried a long jump to grab onto the beast's tail but had missed it by a long shot and had failed. She fell onto the floor with a tumble. Still not injured or broken, Rena got back to her feet with vengeance to try again but Dante stopped her. He held her arm as she struggled to pull back. " Let me go! We have to rescue mom! Let go of me!!" Trish was struggling to get out of its clutches but it shook her vigorously,  
  
The Griffin snarled, squeezed Trish in his clutches, making her let out a scream of pain. She quickly passed out once her oxygen was cut off and it began to fly off with her as his prey. Dante let go of Rena, running out the door in a rush to catch up with Trish. Rena followed. They were too late. Dante dashed in the rain-drenched streets in a high-speed chase for Trish, his platinum hair blowing in the wind, his eyes focused on his wife. He kept running, gaining speed and leaving Rena behind. Rena would catch up, but he could not wait for her. He had to reach Trish in time or it may be her end. Dante screeched to an abrupt stop in the middle of the pouring rain. Rena speeded up and eventually came up along side her father. That creature was high above their heads, so far from even their weapons' reach. " Let Trish go!" Dante shouted with a threat from Alastor's edge. Rena was very confused. Was this her fault? She silently watched with timid eyes of unknown fears. " L-let . . .my mother go." She cried, tears stinging in her icy eyes.  
  
The beast tore open a vortex and before entering it with the limp Trish in claw, he looked down upon Dante and Rena. " If you wish to regain this human as yours, Devil Hunter, travel far to the Castle of Hopelessness. The demons are eager to meet you and taste your soul and blood. If you survive this trial, the one after will surely take claim of what remains of you." And it was gone, into the gyration of the outer void. Dante collapsed to his knees in anger. Trish was . . .gone. Rena gaped in shock. " No. No . . .no!" She yelled into the thundering sky. She shut her mouth, narrowing her eyes with thought. " Dad, you know how the rain." She muttered, " make's everything clean again. . ?" She was hinting at the chance to fight, a dream she had since she was a young child. This philosophy she was reciting had a deeper meaning; they could set things right again. "We can save Mom!" She turned to Dante, gesturing her feelings with her arms. She had to hope. She knew he wouldn't say no to an adventure together-" You're not going. I can't lose you . . .No, I won't." -She only hoped, never thinking of his true answer. " But Dad," she said, truly crushed. " we have to save her. Somehow. And we can find that somehow. You know, you do still have those swords somewhere-" " I am not losing a daughter and a wife to.him..." Dante lamented.  
  
" Dad, hope is fire that burns forever." She lowered her eyes to hide her tears, fighting with stinging tears that wouldn't fall. " Hope can't be wronged. You're not doing wrong by believing in hope. Hope is there for a light-a light in the darkness, when all seems lost in the shadows. Tell me now: Has all those pep talks, encouragements and philosophies been lies? Or are they what I believe they are-the TRUTH!" Dante peered in his daughter's eyes. Her blue eyes had that unmistakable gleam of hope, love, and inner strength. " Listen." She came and sat down on her knees and looked him in the eye. " I know I can fight. . . I want to. I must. You're a hero . . .my late grandfather's a hero . . . my mother's a hero . . .now it's my turn to find destiny." She smiled as the tears came through. She wrapped around him as she cried a little. " Please, let me come with you. The curious and vengeful alike with seek me out once they know I'm here. Besides, our roof caved in. And I don't have any friends . . ." She let go of him. Again he looked into her soul. " You. . ," He paused, grasping her hand with a pat. " You can come with me. I now see that you are ready to know that feeling." "Feeling? Feeling of what?" Rena repeated. This time she perked up with surprise. " It's something I can't tell you about for you to know it. You have to experience it yourself." He stood up with Rena. " Why is it so important?" She questioned, just as curious as a kitten. " You will understand when you experience it. For now, we need our weapons." " Okay. Hey, you said a couple years ago that when the time came, you would give me a sword. So does that mean I'm getting a sword?" She asked. " That, and so much more." The two walked through the rain together, Rena asking the questions, Dante giving the answers. They seemed happy together, something that's cherished dearly. It reminded Rena of a memory that happen just recently, on a green, lush hill, in middle of a clear, starry night. . .  
  
Dante and her were alone, relaxing and gazing at the stars. " See," Dante pointed out a constellation. " that's the dragon, Draco of the stars." " Yeah, but what about that one over there?" Rena asked, showing another pattern. " That's Orion," " Who's he?" Dante smiled. He wasn't finished, but he noticed that Rena was eager to learn. " A hunter. Right there is his spear as he slays the beast. He's easy to find." Really? How do you find him in the sky?" Rena asked. " Look for his belt." He showed her Orion's belt with his index finger. Those glimmering specks were enough to make Rena had soar. Why were they there? To her they were like friendly eyes watching from above, making her wonder about life and the people and places around her. " What do the stars remind you of?" She relaxed, putting her arms to the back of her head, like Dante. He was silent in thought for a few minutes . . . " Things I've done; my past." He sounded distant and more to himself with that answer. " Stars remind me of other worlds." " Other worlds?" It was Dante's turn to ask the questions, " Places I'll see whenever I grow up or something. . . ."  
  
To Rena, what she had mused then was coming true. This was here chance to see rare sights, things that aren't normal, and . . . the fact that she was standing in front of the Devil Never Cry. Remembering that fond memory must have token longer than thought of. " Holy cow. This . . ." She slapped herself to see if she was crazy. Her eyes felt like they were going to fall out because of how wide and round they were, but they weren't lying. " . . .this is. . .the Devil Never Cry? I-I never thought I'd get the chance to . . .see it for real." Dante took out a key from his back pocket and put it to the keyhole. With the satisfying sound of unlocking the door, Dante walked in, breathing a content sigh. Rena followed slowly after. " Woah. This is awesome!" Rena gawked the trophies, the pictures . . .It was all a 'living' legend. " Dad, you and Mom were partners for the Devil Never Cry! This is wicked sweet." She mumbled. " I'll never wash these eyes again." Okay, so maybe her jokes weren't always the best when called-for but she was only kidding. Who on earth would put soap purposely in their eyes? And why? " Uh, never mind the stupid joke or whatever I just said. I'm still so shocked that I think my legs are Jell- O." She sounded as if she was goofing off but she was serious. " Dad, you were one bad-ass in your old days." " Rena!" " Er, I mean, cool-person-to- the-core. Okay, happy now?" He nodded. " Sheesh, I don't care if you curse around my ears. It's not like it is an influence." " Yeah, riiiight." Dante sat on top his desk, crossing his arms as Rena wandered around.  
  
" And I never knew I was so close to a legendary hero. So close, he was my own father. Dad, you rock on!" Dante smirked at her comment, " Well, I'm no hero anymore." " Really now? What happened?" Rena was hinting at something. " This hero has things and people to look after." " Like what? Me? Sure, as if you care. " She bluffed. " Either that's the real reason or is it that you're just scared?" She teased. " You really think I would run away from something that could bite my legs off?" Being a demon slayer, Dante could never run from a fight, no matter how ridiculous. " Yes, actually I do," Rena continued with her little charade. Sure she had good acting, but not enough to fool Dante. " It was probably a zombiefied chicken running around with its head cut off!" She pretended to slice her own head off with her finger as the knife. Her expression was comical; eyes rolled up but visible, tongue stuck out to the side. " Yeah, but you're not the one who's been in a haunted pet market." " They don't sell dead chickens over in petshops." "Hmmm. That's weird, because I was sure I heard a laughing little girl . . ." Rena held in a snort from that laughable idea. " What?" She blinked, cocking an eyebrow. Dante had a smirk plastered on his face; " She sounded a lot like . . .THIS!" He reached over and tickled Rena in the ribs; finally freeing her suppressed snorts and laughs. " Hey I said laughing, not snorting. " Sorry. . . can't. . .help it . . ." she managed to squeak in-between laughter. " Let go, Dad!" She laughed harder, trying to wriggle out of his strong-fingered grasp. " So, the infamous Devil Hunter has been busy all these years." A familiar female voice said. Dante smirked. " And it seems you've became a spy, Lucia." At the moment he forgot Rena was held in his arms and dropped her. She landed on her butt with a dull thud. " Ow." She dryly said without any emotion. It was more like a hint for Dante to recognize her, but she wouldn't know.  
  
The lady removed her stylish sunglasses. Dante turned around to see his old partner, Lucia. She wore casual blue jeans, a white tank top shirt, and a blue Jean jacket. Rena stared, blank and confused. " It seems that . . .you married Trish, and that you have a child." " Yes." "Well, who she?" Dante stepped to the side so Lucia could see a teenager sitting on the ground. Rena grinned a toothy grin with a sheepish laugh. She had the decency to blush. With out warning, her grin turned into a floppy half- smile. " I'm. . .uh, Rena. Nice to meet you Ms. Lucia." She got up from the floor, brushed off the dust from her clothing, and offered her hand for a handshake. Lucia smiled. She shook her hand slowly, almost timidly. Lucia noticed that Rena was very much like her father; she had his ice blue eyes, his smile, and even his manners. . . Definantly related. " Okay, I know your name. But how does my Dad know you?" Rena asked. " We were partners for years. Then we moved on, never speaking to one another again. This our first time meeting in such a long while." Lucia explained gently. Rena blinked. Her dad was more social than she thought. " Dude, that makes me the fourth demon hunter." Her eyes were haunted with her thoughts. " I think I might be sick." Dante smirked. " Uh huh. Riiight," "Dad!" "Sorry."  
  
Definantly Rena had not expected this. " Again I will say my catch phrase that you have grown used to hearing regularly, Dad: Awesome. Sweetness." She said, deadpan. How much shock, amazment, and humor could one person take in one single day and eve? Enough could be enough but. . .Rena wanted more!  
  
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Whew! After so long, my master piece is free! Took long enough. Now, my slaves, review! Or I will unleash my wicked and dark half-insane demonic powers on you!!! ^.^ Ja Ne. 


	2. Getting Ready

Disclaimer: The only thing I own is Rena's soul – she's my own character.  
  
I'm starting to write in a different way, now. Since one of my precious reviewers said I needed to separate my paragraphs and actions . . . So here we go.  
  
Chapter 2: Getting ready  
  
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Dante sat in the main office at his desk, pretty much laid back with his legs propped up onto the desk's surface and his back leaning back in his chair deeply. He and Lucia were discussing a very important matter while Rena was upstairs changing.  
  
"Remember the day you left from your last mission?" Lucia asked from the wall on which she leaned upon, her arms crossed. "Why did you leave?"  
  
Dante's icy eyes became glassy and distant with a dreaming glint. "Rena was being born. Trish called me the hour her water broke." He mused.  
  
"You never made it in time," Lucia looked to the floor, "did you?"  
  
"Yeah, but they had me wait. They said it would be a bad idea to shock a woman who's in labor. It could've been fatal. I didn't want that... " His voice was growing ever more abroad.  
  
"Huh." Lucia nodded. "These past thirteen years have past slowly. Everyday I tried to think you were coming back, but part of me said to... let you go."  
  
" I didn't find you," Dante's eyes returned to their normal blue gaze. "You found me. So you proved yourself wrong."  
  
"Yes... but I never thought you were married and had a child."  
  
"Well, now you do."  
  
Upstairs, Rena puzzled over her garments her father had given her: a red trench coat as red as blood, black boots that came up an inch below her kneecap, and a pair of indigo fingerless gloves. Her reflection in the full body mirror was creeping her out, seeing as she, with glaring eyes of ice and short blond hair shrouded in shadows, appeared dripping with blood, yearning to kill, thirsting for souls and afraid of the light...  
  
Rena shuddered.  
  
It was scary, too scary, even to think about. Why would Dante give her such clothing?  
  
"Well I'm a Devil Huntress now. Might as well look like one, I suppose." She muttered, almost grumbled, to her self, turning around once to look at her back and its excellent hems of precise stitches.  
  
Her mother did an awesome job on the seams. Everything on the trenchcoat was sized so perfectly, it was amazing. Who knew Trish could sew?  
  
With a final twirl, Rena decided in was time to show her Dad. With a swish of her long crimson tail of fabric, she went to the doorknob and turned the cool metal. The door creaked loudly and she stepped down, closing the door behind her.  
  
She walked down, step by step. Finally, she was on the wooden floor.  
  
Lucia glided over to Rena with a suspicious intent that Rena couldn't yet put her finger on . . .  
  
Rena gave a dubious glance, raised her blonde right eyebrow, and then looked to proud and smiling Dante. She took a step forward and said, " Hey Dad. Why do I have to wear – "  
  
Her foot slipped and she fell to her face onto the hard ground with an audible crack of her jawbone colliding with the wooden floor. "OW – "She said dryly. She picked herself off the floor, one knee, and arm at a time. She glared sharply at Lucia and her grin. If looks could kill, would Rena's? "LUCIA!" She growled, baring her teeth.  
  
Lucia laughed directly in her face.  
  
Rena's expression went low. Her lips twisted into a side way, disgusted face of shock. Her eyes were hard, harder than granite. She crossed her arms over her chest and she began tapping her left foot impatiently as Lucia practically choked on her laughter. Rena closed her eyes with an unnecessary deep breath. Not often would Rena become aggravated, but that peaceful period was over; she now was aggravated, set, and ticking, like a bomb. She was about to explode with annoyance if Lucia hadn't controlled her fit of laughs and snickers in the nick of time.  
  
Rena calmed down. Dante got up from his chair, sulky and slowly, walking to 'help' Lucia ...  
  
Lucia finished her chortling and patted Rena on the shoulder rather heartily. Rena pulled back harshly.  
  
"Woah woah! No noogies. Don't even do it!" She announced, rather bluntly and randomly.  
  
Lucia's impish smile spread wider. "Do it?"  
  
"No I said— "  
  
"Hmmm. Do it?" Lucia's eyes flickered to the floor, then flashed as she said, "Okay! " She reached over and pulled Rena under, digging her fist deep and hard into Rena's scalp.  
  
"Nooo!" Rena cried. "Dad, help!" Rena struggled to pull free. She swatted away Lucia after quite some effort, but it paid it's worth. However, Rena rubbed her scalp and winced at the smarting discomfort.  
  
Dante smiled at Rena. An evil and cunning one at that.  
  
" Oh no," Rena begun to back away, after she was done rubbing her head, putting out her palms away from her to keep Dante at bay... unfortunately, it was a futile attempt "No, Dad."  
  
Dante advanced towards Rena, still smiling evilly.  
  
Rena's expression sunk into one of deep concern – concern for her scalp. Again. "D-dad... no!" She yelped as Dante pulled her under for a noogie that was twice as hard as Lucia's. " Owww..." Rena groaned, rubbing her tussled hair. "My head... "  
  
Rena leaned against the wall, watching Lucia and Dante rummaging through the closet. They pulled out dozens and dozens of boxes. Rena was bored, so she entertained herself by fiddling with her pendant. Such a strange necklace, whatever it was for. However, Rena was beginning to sense energy radiating off of the crystal in the handle of the dragon's sword. Ever since she had turned thirteen, she had become ever more sensitive to the world around her. New scents she never knew or ones that were known renewed. Sights appeared sharper and in much more idiosyncrasy than ever before! Even her sense of touch was more invigorating, gushing with reality ...  
  
She threaded the chain of her necklace through her fore and a middle fingers, making something that was like a tiny bridge. The cool metal was fresh and she loved that feeling across her fingers which somewhat tickled in a strange new way.  
  
At that moment, Dante pulled out an extra huge box. Was it a bit too much? He didn't linger on that; that box was damn heavy!  
  
CLUNK!  
  
He slammed it on the floor.  
  
Rena made a face at the box and dully heaved a small sigh. " Dad, what is this?"  
  
Dante pulled out a pair of guns, one an indigo color and the other a silver tone. He handed them to Rena. " These are yours," He said simply, looking up from his kneeling position on the floor to see Rena's reaction.  
  
The guns were each hand-engraved with words in a fancy and elaborate text for each was named. Themis was indigo, Athena silver. Rena was in astonishment. Was this what Dante meant when he said she would receive something to go along with her sword? Rena was very sure it was!  
  
"Holy crap!" Rena spat. "Handguns! For me! Wicked sweetness!" She gave Dante an unexpected hug. "Thanks!" She pulled back before Dante could respond.  
  
"Uh..." Dante paused. "You're welcome...."  
  
Even though Rena didn't know it, Dante made those guns especially for her. He made them before she was born, one windy yet starry night. He was tinkering around with spare gun parts when he got the idea. He worked all through the night and on pass 7:00 a.m. When Trish had walked down for breakfast that morning, she found Dante fast asleep at his desk with a new pair of tailored pistols in hand. She knew who they were for and she approoved of their purpose...  
  
Now, on this day, they were in the hands of the destined owner, the one Dante had thought of since he knew, even before she was born, that Rena would be like her father... Now was the moment that Rena offically become a demon huntress.  
  
A huntress who would carry on the legacy...  
  
"Dad," Rena snapped her fingers twice in Dante's face. "Earth to Dad. Hello Dad. Are you with us?" She asked, her voice soft.  
  
Dante's vision cleared and focused. He felt as if he were reliving the past. Rena's face was now clear. "Yeah, I'm here." Dante had an expression of dreaming... Memories can do that to a person who has many.  
  
" You looked like you were in a dream or somethin'. Did ya see a ghost?" Rena used one of Trish's old, old jokes, one that she used when they hunted together in times past.  
  
"No. I was thinkin' of something." Dante closed his eyes, thoughtfully and slow.  
  
"Yeah, and I was busy waiting until you become earthbound again. What were you thinkin' of?" Rena asked. That was the first time she had seen Dante so out of it for a long period of time. She was growing concerned for him...  
  
"Nothing much. Just I was recalling the night I made those guns... for you." Dante's voice and words trailed off, like they floated back to the past...  
  
Rena and Lucia each lifted one eyebrow, Lucia's left, Rena's right.  
  
" Dante..." Lucia carefully began. "Did you just have whiskey... ?" She sarcastically inserted.  
  
Rena's face held conflict. She was fighting a storm of laughs... She covered her mouth with her hand, but try as she may she couldn't hold it in.  
  
Rena busted into laughter. She leaned forward, grasping her sides and leading her elbows on her own knees. "S-sorry Dad..." She recovered. "That... was a pretty good joke." – She let one final laugh loose – "Heh. But no Lucia... He's serious." She wiped a tear away from her eyes. "Dad I know what you mean. Ebony and Ivory mean a lot to you and –"  
  
"How do you know about Ebony and Ivory?" Dante said, incridulous. "I never even SHOWN you what they are."  
  
"Dad you can't hold everything inside... sometimes things get out. One way or another, whether expected to or otherwise." Rena murmured. Was she becoming thoughtful, too? Rena blinked to return to the present. "Anyway what I mean is, I was going through your desk looking for a pencil and... there they were." Sweat on Rena's forehead beaded. "Er! What I mean is, I wasn't looking for it purposely... it was just there. In the wrong place at the wrong time, y'know?" Rena added.  
  
"I see." Dante muttered. "I see that it wasn't your fault. However... you shouldn't have gone through that desk without my permission. You coulda found something you wouldn't wanna see." He inserts.  
  
"Yeah... sorry for intruding." Rena murmured, in sincere feeling.  
  
" Okay enough with the confessions," Lucia uttered. She was getting pretty sick of all of the thick angst. " We still need to give this girl a sword."  
  
"Alrighty then. Rena, wait here..." Dante got up from the floor and walked back into the shadows of the dusty closet. When he came back, he carried a sword wrapped in a protective sheath of crushed velvet. He laid it on the surface of the desk and uncovered a steel sword of gems and intricate detail. It was a paradise for the white blue eyes of Rena.  
  
Rena gasped as she laid a finger to touch the surprisingly warm metal body of the sword. "A sword... is it... for me...? " Rena asked softly.  
  
"Yes... It's the Sword of Rain... It's from my last mission, the one before you were born." Dante answers, placing a hand on Rena's red shoulder.  
  
Rena took hold of thee sword and brought the sword up above her head, grasping it within both hands. She swung it to the right, twirled it to the left, and brought it to slash the middle. She was trying to get the feel of a weapon. This weapon... could it be the one that is rumored to give the owner guidance with light? Who cares! Rena fell in love with her sword, and holstered it on her back, the traditional way that her family always did...  
  
"Thank you... for this treasure, that I will always keep." She said, happily...  
  
"But I'm not the one who said for me to keep it," Dante pointed his thumb to Lucia, who was standing in back of him. "Lucia gave it to me."  
  
"Well, then thank you, Ms. Lucia." Rena smiled sweetly. "Thank you."  
  
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... And that's how Rena got her weapons. I'm so sorry if it is too short, but many people had complained that my last chapter was waay too long. Well, this one I guess is sorta short and stubby, but who knows what the next chapter will be like? ^_^ So, if you please, would you review and tell me how this one measures up? I'll be mighty grateful.  
  
P.S: Should I write in present tense next chapter? 


	3. Embarking On the Journey

Disclaimer: (Time to get serious) The Devil May Cry franchise is property of Capcom. All characters ('cep for Rena) are copyrighted and if I didn't be careful of what I say, I'm pretty sure I'd be prey for mad fanboys (No offense meant).  
  
Thank you thank you thank you! All of my reviewers and readers... You make this possible for me to continue... I like what you guys say. So here's yet another chapter of the increasingly popular Devil May Cry: Dance with Life and Death.  
  
Oh, and another thing: Sorry for last chapter if I accidentally began to write in present tense. I was thinkin' about something else...  
  
NEW! -- When you see a ' *' it means that whatever song was assigned to the chapter, start listening while you read. When you see another later one, stop the music no matter where it is. Example: For this chapter you need the song "Book of Days" by Enya for a certain part.  
  
The whole reason I'm doing this is so that my story will seem more like a movie. For my whole story you will need to find certain songs (or go to links I give—If I can find any).  
  
Here's this chapter's song link: Go down and click on Book of Days. It'll load and once it does, read the star marked part. If the music runs out before then, play the song again.  
  
Now let's each make a promise... You keep reviewing, and I'll keep writing. And I'll try to stop changing my style. ^^'  
  
And with out further ado, here's Chapter 3!  
  
Chapter 3: Embarking On the Journey (Song: "Book of Days" by Enya)  
  
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The Sword of Rain... what is its origin? What is it? Possibly, could it be the Sword of Light, or at least a part of it? The sword is the exact opposite to the Sword Darkness? Ancient tales say that the Swords of Elemental Balance are the most sought weapons of all realms and worlds. Each sword was scattered throughout the Chosen World – Earth – and each fell into different lands, lands that were chosen to protect the weapons from ever coming together again to create the ultimate weapon... The legends say the Swords of Elemental Balance contain unsurpassed strength, so strong in fact, the world could become destroyed by the storms that arise upon its summoning, and supernatural phenomenon occurrences.  
On the other side, the Swords of Elemental Balance are said to bestow peace amongst the human and Devil races; a new revolution... If the Sword of Rain is truly an elemental sword, then Rena was chosen by the Holy One to wield a sacred weapon of unwavering intensity. What does Rena's future behold? Deep within her – and Dante knew this – Rena had Light and Darkness flowing in her veins.  
Only Dante hated himself for giving her a darkside. He hated himself for endangering her because of it... He cursed so much, but loved his daughter no matter... But he couldn't help but indignantly think WHY was fate so cruel? Why so cruel and unjust to the Child of an Angel and a Devil? An angel who is actually human, but angel to himself and his Rena. A human who saved his life by giving up her own so that he could move. So that he could take Mundus down.  
Maybe that sword was Fate's trinket as if to say, "This is a second chance,". Dante was grateful that Rena had a chance. The chance to be cleansed, to shine pure and white along slide all hearts of good in the world. Yeah. Rena was all right. She was safe... for now, he hoped.  
  
Rena smiled softly and warmly to Lucia, a newfound friend. "Now my dream can finally come true.. Thank you, so so so much.  
Lucia returned the smile. She must have let her emotions control her at that moment, because she suddenly swept Rena into a cozy little hug. Her eyes shot open as she gasped. She quickly let her go after she had got a hold of herself. She turned around stiffly. " Uh... sorry, about that..." She apologized.  
Rena laughed heartily. She touched Lucia on the shoulder, smiling. " That's okay. I do the same thing to Dad all the time. He's gotten used to it by now! Right, Dad?" She grinned. She nudged him with her elbow in his side. "Huh? Huh? Right?"  
"Yep. And you never give a warning." said Dante.  
" Yeah I know. It's because I don't find a NEED to," She triumphantly crossed her arms, still grinning. "Heh. You know me; stealth and surprise. Be prepared... or else. Muwahaha." She goofily laughed. Yeah. It was yet another trademark. Her parents have their trademarks of humor and foolishness. She had hers. Yes, keep it equal, she always thought. Keep it equal.  
Dante smirked a small smirk. "Rena, have you been playing too many video games lately?" Revenge for the whiskey joke...  
"No." Rena shot back. " I learned all my stealth tactics when I was working for FOXHOUND." She grinned to combat the smirk.  
"Uh huh, sure, and I'm related to Raiden, that sissy, feminine ninja."  
"Hey! Raiden is cool, like you; he has a sword, like you; he has lots of guns, like you; even the eyes and hair are similar! C'mon, Solid Snake and Raiden rock, just like the Devil Never Cry people, including me.. Are you sure you aren't a former part of the FOXHOUND unit?" She said.  
Dante thwaped Rena on the head. It was light, and Rena felt it, but it didn't hurt like a noogie from before. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rena, Rena," He exasperatedly sighed. " How many times must we go through this? Metal Gear Solid 2: Sons of Liberty isn't real. Why do you think it is, even after you've beaten it – at the least – FIVE times?"  
"Try tellin' that to the La le lu le lo..." muttered Rena.  
" Whaat?"  
"Nothing." Rena shook her head a little bit. "Anyway, it's pure and –simply – cool.. Like Kingdom Hearts!" Rena said, with enthusiasm. " Mundus is the darkness and WE are the key to the door to the light – "  
Dante whapped her once more. " You're dreamin' again....  
"Sorry. This head of mine"-- She took her fist and knocked on her head like wood, winking with her left eye —"goes wild unconfined."  
"Yeah. We figured," Lucia inserted. "And don't say a THING about us being Mafia leaders in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City because we aren't hitmen."  
" We're Mafia leaders in Grand Theft Auto: Vice City." Rena playfully added. She still had a grin; a grin so wide, you'd think her face would crack from the absolute pressure.  
Dante and Lucia just stared. They stared, stared, and kept on staring.  
Rena abruptly ceased her fooling around. She got the message and began to become serious, for once. "Right right. No time for games..." She said, earnest.  
Dante smiled. " Good. Now that we're serious." He put a hand on Rena's red shoulder. "We need to dig up some info on the castle, it's whereabouts and so forth."  
Lucia began walking to the door. "I'm going to the library." She began to open the door. "I'll see what they've got." Dante nodded. She dashed out the door.  
"Rena,"  
Rena snapped her attention to her father. "Yes, my captain?"  
Dante rolled his eyes slighty. Was he beginning to become annoyed by Rena's humor? " I need you to go upstairs into the attic and search through my boxes of files and books. There might be helpful scraps."  
"Aye, aye!" Rena saluted and ran up stairs to begin her search.  
  
Half an hour later, Lucia returned from her errand with the rewards of five books all being cradled in her arms. She slammed them on the table in the same room as Dante, sat down, and began to skin them for information.  
Dante was seated at the computer desk; typing away on the Internet search engines and criteria, hoping for any sort of scrap that existed.  
Everyone was searching, searching for key information. Though they didn't know that one of them had found everything needed. So much information that came in such a heavy abundance, your brain would explode out of your head and become a mushy grey-jelly mess on the walls.  
Of course Rena is a girl who absorbs it all, a living sponge basically. She's good in reading. So good, she could read a 200-page book in less then five days...  
She had skimmed over 500 documents, several shelves of books, and ten folders, compiling it all together like a complex puzzle. She also found a container of glass bottles with a glowing solution. Knowing what it was she decided to take several bottles and stuffed them in her pockets. Just in case.  
With everything she had discovered, it all made sense. It really made sense. All she had to do was show her father and they would be on their way. Overwhelmed by the thought, Rena hastily got up from the floor, collected her books and whatnot in her arms, and strode over to the door. Since her arms were full, she kicked the doorknob and it swung open with a bang. She practically stomped down the stairs in as much of a rush down as she did up.  
"Mission... accomplished." She plopped her feet to the floor after taking a risky jump over the last three steps. "I've found tons and tons of info, Dad!" Rena announced, walking to Dante who was sitting at the computer, pretty much hypnotized by the screen. "I've got what you wanted, and I've got what we need." She repeated.  
"Let me see what you found," Dante turned around in his swivel chair. He was wearing a red ensemble, identical to Rena's except his was more vest like in the chest region and Rena's was a black tank-top, actually. Black boots and gloves like Rena's. Yeah, the family had a strong sense of style. Black and red... surprisingly, not blue, until Rena was born... but that's a whole other subject.  
Rena's eyes reflected distraction. " Uh..." She shook her head to clear the astonishment. "Here's the best so far," She handed Dante a chestnut-colored book with crinkled pages yellowed by age. "Flip to the blue bookmark and read the second page.  
Dante took the book in accepting hands, flipped to the bookmark. He began to read from the page suggested. "' Along the coast of New Mexico, there exists a group of three isles: Ainafuin, Dingurth, and Duria —"  
" Ainafuin means 'Holy Darkness'; Dingurth means 'Silent Death'; Duria means 'Dark Abyss', by the way." Rena interrupted.  
"Thanks, Rena," Dante continued reading aloud from the book. It was typical of Rena to find a little more information than needed. Oh, well... " 'On one island – Ainafuin – it is said that it holds both life and death... The Fountain of Healing and a Gate to the Underworld, each residing in a legendary fortress known as the Castle of Hopelessness.  
' In the citadel, it is said that a great evil lives, thriving on the wandering souls that unfortunately become trapped. If one doesn't die any other way, it's rumored – and I believe – that human souls are captured and dragged down to the Underworld to be stripped of freewill, and forced serve the Dark Lord that dwells in the flaming depths...' "  
Dante's face refracted in disgust. "That's just wrong.. Humans forced to become Devils against their will...What the hell is Mundus planning...?" Dante uttered.  
"Yeah, but as the book states, there's a lighter side to all of the darkness." Rena said, her words dripping with pity onto the souls that were lost. " The author, Nicholas Twikk, sought out to find the truth behind the fountain. At the back of this book, ' Portals of Unknown Wonder', he wrote that he was going to the Isles soon and that he would write about it in his next book. Unfortunately," Rena said softly, "that book was never released and the writer was never seen again after he left for that journey. It's sad because there's a proverb that says 'The Wanderer and the Adventurer will always die on a journey of importance, no matter what one is doing...'. Now I believe it's true..."  
Dante frowned and closed his eyes. "Ainafuin," Rena continued. "is a cursed Isle. It's known as the Siren's lure since no one knows why, but it's as if you're feel drawn to it." She shuddered. "Creepy, because of the fact that the castle is apart from good and evil – it a mix of both. Heaven's Angels and the Sky against Hell's Demons and bloody fire."  
"I've heard of Ainafuin's curse. You either die or become a dark slave. Even the purest of hearts fall victim to the fortress' irreverent charms." Lucia said, closing one of her books. A puff of thick dust floated in the air and she coughed.  
"The islands have been given another title, too. Many have called the three islands, the Enchanted and the Cursed Ones. But as the text states, there is light," Rena added.  
"And your meaning is...?" Inquired Lucia.  
" The Fountain of Healing."  
"Oh, yeah..."  
" It is said that that the fountain can heal any wound, no matter where or how deep, heal broken ligaments, tenants, and bones, and illnesses." Rena intellagently informed. She flipped open a supernatural encyclopedia, scrolled down the page with her finger, to review her information to be sure she was right. "It states right here that the fountain can give life to the dead if someone pours the unknown liquid on the corpse." She snapped shut her book and put all of her references on Dante's desk as soon as he got up to drift around the room.  
"Basically, it's the legendary fountain of rebirth...." Murmured Dante, contemplateing deeply on the whole conception.  
  
"If mother is..." Rena paused and bit down on her tongue. She didn't know how Dante would react if she said her mother could be dead. She adverted her gaze to the floor. "... We could bring her back to life, as if nothing had happened to her." Her blond hair fell over her eyes like a shadow of lament.  
"I understand, Rena. You have hope, right? Hopes that your mother is alive... and id she isn't... that the fountain exists." Dante muttered gently. He could tell that she was serious and was trying to be careful to not offend him.  
Rena made no effort to move the hair from her eyes.  
"I said something wrong... didn't I?" Rena's voice was emotional and truthful.  
Dante came by and moved Rena's hair behind her ear. "No you didn't." Dante reasoned, looking Rena in the eyes once she looked up. " I know what you mean and I understand how you feel. I know that you also are feeling sorry because you think you're weak. But you know what,"  
"What?" Tears welled up in her eyes.  
"You're not weak because you're my only daughter, and I'm here to protect you." He said. "You are strong. I can see it in your eyes and your eyes don't lie. They never have and I predict that they never will. They are only full of truths and dreams and no fear." He put a hand on her shoulder and she leaned into him. "You're right though. Your mother... something may have happened to her." He began to embrace his daughter, but she didn't let it go much further.  
"Dad, are you getting all mushy? Uh, because I'm not. It's just... my hormones. Yeah that's it, hormones..." Rena was a little sensitive at times. She couldn't help it. She just was that kind of person.  
"Awww, so my little Rena's growing up?" Dante was back to his jokes.  
Lucia perked up. "Sooo, your nickname's Little Rena, huh?" She smirked.  
" No!"  
"Well it sure sounds like it,"  
"Is not!"  
"Is too."  
"Is not."  
"Is too."  
"Uh uh,"  
"Yeah huh"  
"No!"  
"Yes!"  
While Rena and Lucia argued, Dante suddenly changed to a mysterious air. His gaze was distant and longing. He wanted Trish back. He wished to see her smile, to hear her laugh, to be together as a family with her and Rena. He wanted her back. He would do anything to get her back. You could see it in his eyes.  
He walked to the back of the closet and tried to decide upon which sword to take: Alastor or Rebellion? He quickly made up his mind. Alastor, sword of thunder and storm. He holstered his sword by the leather strap on his back.  
Memories... so many memories...  
"Hey guys," The two females stopped all together. "We COULD stand here all day, but we've got work to do." He felt in his pockets and was startled to feel his two guns. He felt the sudden burning of silent anger stirring up inside of him. Dammit! Why didn't he use them before? He shook his head. There was no need for that. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out a sleek case. He opened it like a miniature computer. Inside gleamed dozens of silver and magical bullets. He closed the case and shoved it in the pocket of his trenchcoat's inside. He started walking to the door and Lucia followed but before they could open the door, Rena spoke.  
"Uhhh, Dad. One more thing." Rena adverted her eyes to the floor again. " I know where the isles are but... are you you wanna go through with this?" She looked to her father, but not with her bright smile like usual. She had a very distinct unsureness glittering in her eyes, making her seemed dazed.  
Was she afraid?  
" My Rena," Said Dante, placing his hands to salute. "Have no fear: Daddy's here." He winked playfully. "Good job, Sir-I-can't-tell-when-my-daughter's-serious-A lot, but she's serious." Lucia responded sharply. She noted that Rena didn't even make response to the joke that Dante obviously used when she was younger. " Let me do what you can't, Dante,"  
"Hey--!"  
"Don't be afraid, Little Rena... 'Fear is the chain that restrains one from doing of what their heart believes to be right...' Don't let fear overrule you..."Lucia encouragingly smiled. " Remember that, okay?"  
" I will... because it's true..." Answered Rena, as she no longer seemed grim. Quotes always did that to her. They renewed her flame. She gave Lucia a trademark smile.  
"You done? Now, let's get moving," He was about to open the door.  
" Hey! Wait up!" Rena joined them at the door. "Question: How the heck are we going to get to the isles on time?" She asked.  
"We're going to fly." Dante smiled as he somewhat tilted his head as if to point the way out side.  
He opened the door and they walked outside.  
The rainstorm had past. The sky shone clear and azure. Fair... fair, like the time he flew that biplane while outrunning the explosion of the collapsing Mallet Island, with Trish at his side...  
"Fly?" Rena repeated, practically flabbergasting. "Fly?! Fly... how do you plan to – "  
Dante brought his arms to shoulder length and clenched his fists. He closed his eyes and began to concentrate as he began to glow with an eerie aura. "Haaaaahh....!" He yelled in low voice. "Haaaaahh...." He was bringing his transformation to the climax. "HA!" He snapped his arms to his side and he flashed a blinding light. His skin transformed into an ashy-black, rough texture. His opened his eyes and they glowed white. On his back, bat-like wings busted through the skin on his back and he was now a Devil.  
When he said 'fly', he really meant it!  
Once Dante's transformation met its finish, Lucia began hers. Indicated by the way she did it, it was as if she had practiced better and more often, for sure. She Devil Triggered with ease and became a bird-like Devil. She had the white wings of a dove.  
"Dang it..." Thought Rena, sucking on her bottom lip. "Dad's like a super saiyen and Lucia's... well, a super saiyen too. But how am I to fly?"  
Dante held out an offering hand out for Rena. She stared at it for a moment, then figure: Dante was going to do the work and she would be in on the ride.  
* She timidly took his hand. Upon this action, Dante lifted her into his arms so that she could fly... but not on her own. Once Rena was uncomfortable he and Lucia both performed highjumps, double jumped by pushing off the air its self, and each flapped their exclusive wing sets for the first time that day. Actually, it was the first time that day for Lucia and the first time in years for Dante.  
"Whoa!" Rena shouted, for she was a little startled by the suddenness of how fast they instantly began to fly. She turned her head to the side and saw that Lucia was flying in a different way unlike her father's. It seemed that they were performing a military formation, just like the US Navy's Blue Angels.  
The demon hunters embarked on their hunt. This though excited Rena. Her first hunt, her first kill, her first fight, her first victory, maybe even her first defeat. Many firsts would come to her that day and she knew that at least most of them would come true, which they did...  
The soaring bat and bird demons sailed gracefully and swift, past the livingly city and beyond. Not much longer, they had flown so far and so high in altitude, the cities of mirrored glass, green pastures, and lush hills were all colorfully-unique patches on a quilt.  
Rena awed every sight from her transfixed seat. With her heightened sense of sight, the white clouds were brighter than glittering snowcaps on majestic mountain ranges, the cerulean sky was the same hue as the one of the world's most valuable Sapphire, and the was a light beyond compare. All that was in Rena's heart was bliss. She didn't feel uncomfortable or hot. Dante had a strong hold on her and the mist of the clouds kept her cool. The vast skies to Rena were –literally—heaven!  
As Rena enjoyed everything about her flight, Dante indured a great deal of pain. He had to, to keep Rena in flight. He had to, to save his beloved wife. He couldn't think of anything but what he had to do, but somehow the sky was becoming... enjoyable on a Rena's score, allaying his pain and his dismay, easing his troubles and restless thoughts.  
He gave the signal for Lucia to speed up. She followed her command. Below them, all could see the gold of the sand of the shoreline disappearing as the ocean became full, gleaming an almost crystal aqua-gray as it raced beneath them. They must've been close, Dante was sure of it. If they were, shouldn't have Rena said something?  
"Continue going straight for about six miles, then pivot West for twelve. Eventually, you'll see a triangular- three-piece formation of land." Rena called above the whistling winds.  
  
"Those are the coordinates for Ainafuin and the Cursed Isles."  
Dante nodded. The nod informed Lucia that that was where they were heading. They trusted in Rena's ability to research. They had to because she had found most of everything. They wanted to because she was Dante's only child.  
Dante told himself that for now the pain would wait. Even though he was flying for a good reason, he thought in his mind that flying was just as blissful and pleasurable as Rena believed. Dante smiled on the inside. To fly in the sky without aid from machines had always been one of Rena's childhood dreams... Yeah. At least her childhood was a happy one. At least she has a family...  
Flying was true freedom from the world's prejudice and hate. Flying was another world that surpassed all others. The cobalt skies were a paradise. A Lost Eden amongst the angels and stars. It was God's gift, a gift that could be enjoyed by all and any race of people and beliefs.  
That was the time that he and Rena could experience and acknowledge the beauty and glory of freedom and the skies. Together. Now they could go on in life. Each knew that the fight for good had only just begun.  
The devilhunters were far on their way,  
far on their way.  
  
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How'd you guys like that one? Huh? I wanted to be serious and it came out fine, right? Well next chapter... there's action! ^_^ So keep a lookout – it's in the works.  
  
Thanks for taking the time to read and review!  
  
P.S: When you review, could you please tell me what you REALLY think? What's funny? What sucks? What's cool? What's just plain stupid? Thanks if you do!  
  
-- Seal. 


	4. She began on her own…

Disclaimer: Everything (Besides Rena. When will you people remember that?!) is owned and copyrighted by Capcom. They won't share! And I will have to resort to violence to make them. Draws blade from the starp on her back Capcom If you are reading this, give me Devil May Cry, or Raiden gets hurt! Sword's edge to the important vein in Raiden's neck  
  
Rena: He's property of Konami. Why do you have him? They'll sue you if you kill him!  
  
Uhhh.... Okay. Forget it. Lets Raiden free; Raiden runs away, VERY far away  
  
Ahem   
  
Here's the long-awaited chapter 4, with ONE LAST change in style. Because of time matters, I wasn't able to make this one action-packed like I said it would be. BUT! Chapter 5 is –and I promise it will be — actionpacked and it will be somewhat long (depends on how you measure, really).  
  
The song for this chapter is "Bring me to life" by Evanescene.  
  
The link is: (Click onto music and under "regular" when the sub screen pops up on the right)  
  
Here you go.  
  
Chapter 4: She began on her own...  
  
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Two hours had past after Rena had said the coordinates. They were beginning to grow skeptical of what she said and, just maybe, she was wrong about her information, which was hardly ever. Now would be a novelty of a time to be wrong, noted Dante.  
"Dad, lower below the clouds," Rena commanded. She was still in Dante's arms, but now she was starting to grow tired, as her legs were feeling numb down by the toes and in the knees. She told him to lower so she could see if the Cursed Isles were anywhere nearby. To her luck, the castle was sighted at an excellent time. "Look! There it is!" She leaned forward and pointed below. She wanted to touch ground soon, planning on having Jell-O legs once she did.  
Dante freaked out for he thought she was falling. Man, what would he do if she did fall? Could she swim? Trish would never forgive him for tossing their only daughter into the ocean, much less he couldn't forgive himself for losing his daughter. He would drag on through life, always lamenting yet another death, which, this time, would be his fault. For everyone, the scars that hurt most are emotional. For Dante, he had enough already and he didn't need more.  
Thank God that Rena didn't fall when she leaned forward to prove that the fortress was located.  
"There's the island," She squinted her eyes and shielded them from the sun with her hand for a better look. "and there's the Castle of Hopelessness."  
Suddenly, her pendant began to shake and it let out want seemed to be a scream. It shook violently and shot a sharp, red light beam into Dante's eyes. The burning, tearing pain seemed to ripe through his pupils and retna, blinding him, as he lost control of his arms. He flung them upward to wipe his eyes and clear away the blurriness. He cared not of what was in them, his mind thought, he just had to rid himself of the pain.  
"AAAAAHHHHH!" Screamed Rena. She was falling from him, with her back facing the ground, very dangerous since one cannot see where they are falling much less what they're falling into.  
Dante didn't seem to see her falling. He was still rubbing his eyes in pain and Lucia was floating around him to see what little she could do for him. Unfortunately, that desire excluded Rena and her situation.  
Rena scrambled her mind while seeking a limpid plan on what to do. "This isn't good, this isn't good!" She said aloud, wildly hoping her father heard it. Her father became ever more distant, and she couldn't do a thing about it. She closed her eyes and began to inhale and exhale deeply. What to do, what to do... Her mind pieced together thoughts and ideas... Taking action, she decided to relax and breathe. Right now the speed of her fall was slow, so to speak.  
With her eyes still closed, she turned on her belly and needlepointed herself into a sleek nose-dive that resembled what paratroopers do on the field of battle. Her hair folded back from her forehead with the rushing wind that licked her cheeks. The feeling of true freedom leapt into Rena's heart. Her trenchcoat flapped with the gale and her arms slowly went freely from her sides. Her muscles tensed and relaxed as she sighed, keeping her cool. The air, that once was comforting, was freezing and the cold went to the back of Rena's sensitive nose. It made her sneeze, as she smelt hints of dust and smoke in her oxygen. Taking a final composed breath, she opened her eyes. What her eyes beheld were something she had never seen in her life. The forms of the islands were becoming quite clear as she came closer. What she was doing now is something that most people are afraid of doing.  
With her nose-dive and bodily position, she gained speed in falling.  
"Yeeee-haaw! Yeah!" She cheered, her eyes nearly bursting from happy energy at the thrill of freefalling with out a parachute. Yes! It was something she'd love to do for a living! "I feel so ALIVE! For the very first time!" She beamed with excitement. "But Dad's probably worrying his face off right about now," She murmured humorously to no one in particular and she chuckled at the idea...  
Clouds whipped past her and the wind roared in her ears. The blue skies engulfed her and she felt as though she was an angel of the Holy One.  
'The brave live longer, the stupid live shorter... but the mix lives a life at even lengths.' So that meant she was foolishy fearless or dumb and dareing? Hey, look on a bright side. She isn't a coward, but nor is she too bold, but she is couragous. That counts for something, right? Despite her family origins, wouldn't there have to somebody in the bloodline that isn't a daredevil – no pun intended – who would jump off the Empire State building just to prove that they could do it? She just wasn't that way. But she would do it if she had to.  
Rena wished that she could just grow wings and swoop down to touch the ocean's surface, then come back and fly faster than the speed of sound. If she focused on it, she could almost feel wings on her back, though no matter how much she willed them to, they wouldn't flap. Maybe they weren't ready. Maybe she wasn't ready. Or has she had wings all her life and it's just been one of those lovely little family secrets?  
Rena's head began to hurt. Why, she didn't know nor have any sort of clue. It just felt heavy and it pounded with a headache. Her nose stung from the cold and it felt as though it was to bleed any time soon. The whirling wind was drying out her eyes and they began to water. She closed them to replenish their moister and opened them once they stopped watering.  
Below her, she saw her shadow gliding above a stain-glass ceiling. It depicted a midnight sky with a full moon and stars and a longhaired silvery-blond woman with a crown of stars and an elaborate sword in her one hand, and around her thin wrist of the other was a maroon gem on a golden chain. In the background, a black dragon, and a white dragon, with indigo eyes of hidden wisdom, crossed tails to form an arch through which the woman passed through. Her eyes were hard and darken, as though she had suffered inner torment. Her body was tall and slender. She had wings that were the color of a moonless night but her dress was long, ivory and flowing, with emblems of spiky suns and gorgeous crescent moons along the rims. She had a pale complexion like living marble and her flesh seemed to glow with inner vitality... And if Rena didn't do anything she was going to have a rather painful fall right on through it!  
Rena's mind once again was forced to panic. That beautiful window was about to become a part of her skin, and it would hurt badly, like some kind of twisted plastic surgery. What could she do? What if she didn't do a thing? Would she be pulling out glass shards that are embedded in her skin for as long as she shall live – even if that's pretty short? She couldn't let that happen! Her mind was once again rushed with ideas. Not one made too much sense, if any. She was no professional at skydiving. She had never done anything except ride roller coasters with her hands in the air. Could she handle the impact?  
"Alright, here goes everything!" She instinctively closed her eyes and crossed her arms as she burst through the ceiling. Painted glass shards flew in the air like confetti showering the streets of Time Square on New Year's Eve.  
Rena enclosed to the floor and landed on bended knee, traditional as everything that the Sparda family did. Her trenchcoat flowed to the Earth quickly and Rena's golden hair fell back into normal place, just as ruffled, and unkempt as usual, around the sides of her face, strands hanging in the eyes. Her father had given her the 'good looks' gene, or so he would put it. He always said that whenever women in public asked him if 'that cute little girl was his'. Trish, who knew that Dante was quite a lady-killer in days before they met, would usually nudge him and say, "She got it from me, 'cause she's also MY daughter." Dante would just smile proudly and ruffle Rena's hair. "Too bad she doesn't have silver hair... But she has MY eyes." --  
Rena chuckled at the memory. She remembered taking sides with her father during those times and how the people would laugh at what she would say! Suddenly, her legs couldn't handle the lingering posture and she collapsed backwards. On her butt -- HARD.  
"Marble," she mumbled. "Marble... hurts like crap!" She groaned.  
Out of nowhere came a voosh noise. It filled the room. Dante and Lucia had landed in human form from the sky, through the opening that was a former stained-glass window.  
Startled by the noise, Rena whipped her head to glance over to the other side of the room. She frowned as her father landed stylishly and easy. She wasn't the strongest, the fastest runner, not the toughest, and not the loudest person. She was no winner, she was no athlete, and she was no champion. Just a teenage girl who lives a laid- back life, stylishly, or so her ego told her. She'd rather listen to her heavy metal and hard rock music, and bang her head to Rob Zombie than actually do work. She was kind of lazy. But she couldn't help – was it born into her? Dante told her that if she wants something bad enough, she would work for it. If she doesn't well, she must not care about it as much as she really thinks so.  
Because of her attitude, her being lethargic was almost natural. She hated working long and hard for one thing, without awards on the road there. "It takes work and time. If you want it, you'll have to work for it, 'cause no one's just going to give it to you free. If there's a will, there's a way." He said one day when Rena came home from Tae Kwon Doe absolutely spent of energy and will. She had pretty much given up after attempting to do twenty push-ups. If not for those encouraging words, she would have never reached orange belt and would not be still working for the next level...  
"Rena!" Lucia said, "Little Rena, are you here?"  
Obviously she didn't notice that Rena still sat on the floor, a grimace of discomfort and envy displaying. But it wasn't like she hated them for their talent... she just wanted it. She hoped that it would be hers... someday...  
"Yeah, over here." She got up rather painfully, brushing of dust. She felt strange as Lucia jumped at the sight of Rena answering questionably... "But, man, how you two land gracefully after a freefall is beyond me!" She looked at them with an unreadable expression, "I, well... I land in a very popular way – butt first – and yet I get no credit for actually LANDING traditionally on bended knee, before falling on my ass?!" She shook her head. "Ya know, never mind. You're older, better, and stronger than I'll ever be... It's natural for the parents of a child to exceed farther," She sighed, and then smiled brightly.  
Lucia looked at Rena, vacantly. She lifted an eyebrow as she said, "All I wanted to know was if you were here and if you were all right."  
"Well," – she rubbed her eye with her index finger, and pulled out an eyelash from the surface of her eyeball. She looked at it strange and than flicked it off of her finger – "as you can see, I'm in one piece." She responded sarcastically.  
Dante, hearing the voice of his daughter, rushed over to Rena and swept her up into a hug, covering her face as she struggled to pull away. "Rena," He sighed. "Rena, what happened? How... how did you land?"  
"Ah...! Choking... not breathing... Just fine," Rena's voice was muffled to the almost unbearable point. "Now let me go!" She pulled away forcibly from her father's arms and fixed her hair to her usual style. "But, really, what I wanna know is what's the deal with this pendant? Acting all freaky as it did at home and when we were above the castle..."  
"It blinded me... I'm sorry, I let you fall!" He once again took Rena in his arms. It was another forced one.  
Rena's back popped loudly. Her eyes we  
"Dad, I'm fine!" She pulled more gently than before. Dante appeared as though he was about to be sick from worrying. "Geez, don't worry your hair a different color." She smiled as soon as he let go of her completely. "You always worry too much about your little girl--."  
"What?" said Lucia to herself. She never knew Rena to be a Daddy's girl. Apparently, she was. To Lucia, this particular moment proved it.  
Rena turned around and began to drift away slowly with her hands clasping one another behind her back. "But y'know, your little Rena's not always going to be little." She turned quickly with a smile, clenching her fists in future victory. "She's going to grow up and she's going -- to -- kick – some--"  
"Rena," Dante warned.  
"Ah," she stopped her self from saying the original word, "--butt." She laughed at how she said it. It was the way that voice actors would fix the word they were saying in a somewhat weird voice. 'Butt' sounded that way, and Rena giggled at her mistake. Her victory gesture dropped as she lazily let her lids fall on her eyes as she smiled. "Heh hehe... opps."  
"You're such a goofball," said Lucia to Rena.  
"Yeah and—"Rena's lids removed themselves while she finally become aware of something. "When did you guys turn human? You were demons a few minutes ago!"  
"We have limits, limits that if surpassed, we would lose too much energy," answered Lucia.  
"Just like Super Saiyen three..." muttered Rena, rather randomly. (She seems to do that a lot!)  
"What?"  
"Nothing. Nothing at all," Rena grinned at her own inside joke. Nobody other than herself seemed to catch them. Either she mentioned anime or videogames. If the others didn't notice, she'd say nothing. Perhaps they'd figure it out someday...  
Silence fluttered peacefully.  
Everyone in the group looked around to get a good idea at what the rest of the environment was like.  
Rena scanned the room in which she crash-landed into. Since she fell on through, she had no chance to notice how beautifully creepy the room was. Hauntingly enough, the walls were covered with emerald-colored marble and the floor was a pitch-black marble. Nine Gargoyle statues were lined in a mysterious formation against the wall, like they could spring to life at any given moment.  
She craned her neck to look up. Around where the stained-glass woman was, there was a painting of a war – a war of black winged angels and grotesque demons fighting in the sky with white winged guardian-battle angels. This made her remember the book of Revelations. The painting was depicting the battle of Heaven. The armies of God were lead by the archangel Michael and the armies of Hell were lead by Satan...  
"Rena," Dante called.  
Rena woke from her pondering. She heard him, but she didn't answer. She wasn't done observing. She continued.  
She whirled around at a leisurely pace. Along with the statues she noticed three doors.  
One crimson. One blue. One green.  
"Which way...?" She thought aloud.  
"Lucia will go green, we will go blue." Answered Dante, who stood before the Red, center door. "We can't go through the Red one. It needs a key..."  
Rena's eyes widened as the hairs on her neck stood up on end. She didn't mean for anyone to actually hear that!  
"Uh, I was talking to myself...."  
"Really? I thought you were talking to me," Dante inserted.  
"Um..." Rena looked uncomfortable. "Right." She laughed at herself, practically sweating.  
Lucia smirked. "You know, people will think your crazy if you talk like that to your self aloud."  
"Well then," Rena added causally. "I guess it's good thing I'm home schooled, right?"  
"Alright you two; enough wasting time. Let's move." Dante intrupted the conversation, as it sounded as though it would be yet another friendly fight between the female devil hunters. They were chitchatting and wasting borrowed time, time they didn't have.  
Rena looked from Lucia in a snap. Her eyes glared at the doors. Something wasn't right. Something was going to happen, she could sense it.  
"What's wrong Rena?" asked Dante. He noticed that she was very alert, her eyes were quick to catch movement, and her eyes were tuned for fine hearing.  
Rena straightened up, exhaled through her nose, and closed her eyes. Her nostrils twitched. She didn't answer for a second... "I smell blood. Death is in the air..."  
"Whose is it? Is it Trish's?" asked Lucia, also very aware of the sudden change of atmosphere.  
"I don't know... I really don't know whose it is. It's demon blood. That's all I know." She said, deeply. Her voice had gone from happy to serious, from young to mature, all in a matter of moments.  
This is the true Rena, thought Dante. This is the Rena that I knew would reveal its self one day. He smiled. That day must be today, he added.  
"For now let's figure out a game plan. We can search for the answer to that question on the way there." Dante went forward and examined the red door for any sort of clue.  
Rena found it while being reluctant. She felt strange... Have you ever felt like an event in your near future would change your life and set you on a whole other course? Rena perceived about five or six. She wasn't sure. It sent a chill running down her spinal cord, which made her skin crawl like ants marching in a line in search of food.  
Rena gulped down a huge amount of saliva. She was excited. She was scared. She was anxious. She was nervous. She was happy. She was worried. She was sorrowful. She was angry. She was an ocean roaring with fresh emotion, a storm inside her heart that was unrestful and stirring. She had never felt like this!  
"If I were to die, Dad, what would you do?" asked Rena. She wasn't her usual self quite yet.  
"I'd give you vengence, Queen of Randomness." Retorted Dante. He was taking her question like another one of her strange jokes.  
"Seriously," Rena snapped. She wasn't in the mood to play. She wanted a true answer.  
"I'd give you vengence by slaughtering who ever killed you. Why do you ask?" Dante changed his tone. He, too, was now serious.  
"The Grim Reaper has his rusty sickle in my back," answered Rena, darkly.  
"Great, she speaks in riddles." Lucia added cursively.  
Rena glared at Lucia coldly. "I'm serious... I'm going to die today. I just know it!" She closed her eyes and turned away. "The future is a gruesome thing to ignore." She added.  
"Don't talk like that. You're not going to die. I won't let you." Dante regarded Rena with a look of care.  
"Nice try, but Fate is a cruel Mistress." said Rena, simply. "If I am to die, then..." she sighed sorrowfully. "then I can't do anything but die."  
"Rena you're not doing to die," Lucia said, fet up with Rena's prediction. "You're alive and you can fight. That's all that matters.  
  
"I guess so... but this feeling – "  
"Forget the feeling! You have a job to do! You have to save your mother, so standing here gets you nowhere." Lucia walked next to Dante, who was still checking out a different door...  
"I understand..." She followed suit. She still was acting differently. Was she faking her seriousness? "Does this door need a key?" she asked Dante. Now she seemed to be herself again.  
"No."  
"Then what are we waiting for?"  
"For you to stop chatting."  
"Okay,"  
Dante turned to Lucia. "You take the green door. Rena and I will take the blue."  
"Fine." She began to walk to her door, but turned back to her fellow devil hunters. "What about the center door?"  
"We need to find the key to it. I checked. It's not in this room." answered Dante.  
"Okay then. If one of us gets done with our assigned hallway, where do we wait for the other?"  
"Somewhere the roads cross, destiny awaits." Rena said, her back facing away.  
"Another riddle, Rena?" asked Dante "Tryin' to fool with our minds?" He thought Rena was doing that one PURPOSE but...  
Rena shook her head. "No, it's an inscription above the door." She answered.  
"What's does it mean?" asked Lucia, confused at what the heck Rena was rambling on about. She truly was a master at Randomness!  
"It means that the two doors will meet somewhere near the end. Meaning: It's safe to assume that if we get lost, we will meet up again. Our paths will eventually cross again. We won't remain lost, or so it states." Rena was wise beyond her years, truly. "Farther, should any of us find the key, we should go right on ahead and open the door." She nodded, finishing her explanation.  
"Man, how do you know that? How did you figure that out so... so quickly?" Lucia said, intrigued by what Rena said. She also was a little jealous that a thirteen-year-old could figure out the meaning to something she couldn't. She thought that maybe when she finds something she can't find the answer to, she should seek out Rena, the little scholar.  
"I study books on philosophy and poetry. They use abstract, and it takes a brilliant mind to find what lies beneath." She wiggled her eyebrows a bit to show her meaning. "Let's just say that I read philosophy a lot more than NORMAL teenagers, other than certain ones, myself included." She chuckled at here next answer – "I'm not a normal teen, by the way..."  
"Yeah, riiiight."  
"Actually, she's right. She reads as quick as Trish does, plus the things I like to read about, minus the whole romance novel fetish that Trish has," said Dante, proudly. "She reads fantasy, spy, and science fiction, like yours truly." He added. Rena beamed at what he said, because it was all true.  
"Huh." Lucia puffed out, tiredly. She was sick of Rena being so bright that she had to let it show every time confusion or thought aroused. "Alright. We go our own paths, we meet whenever." She said. "You guys are goin' together, right?"  
"Yes... There's safety in numbers," said Dante, who had turned to watch her leave.  
"Plus, I'm no master samurai or gunslinger okay?" inserted Rena.  
"True, true." Lucia nodded. "Well, see you when I see you," She left to her door –  
"Hey that's my line!" said Rena.  
-- All they heard was laugh before Lucia disappeared behind the door of verdant.  
"Well now that that's over with..." Rena turned around and looked at the blue door. Her heart raced against her rib cage and it thumped with adrenaline. She bit her lip nervously and pushed against the door.  
A frigid wind rushed from the otherside of the door, blowing about Rena. It sounded like someone breathing in her face, chilling the tip of her nose. It whiffed quickly, whirling angrily and then ceasing suddenly. It shot right into her body.  
Rena jolted at the wind, gasping at the cold. Her whole body quivered at the overwhelming chill, then the impulsive heat. Then room temperature.  
She shuddered. "What... what was that?"  
"What was what?" asked Dante. He didn't feel a thing.  
"That—that breeze! Didn't you feel it?" said Rena. She was searching everywhere. So what if she was going nuts, she knew that that was wind! It was like it attacked her and then vanished unseen.  
"No," he looked at Rena strangely. Maybe he should step away from her...  
"It came from the door and then it just... left." Rena scratched her head. "What was it?"  
Dante wasn't paying attention. He was looking into the darkened hall. "I know what it was," He smirked at Rena's innocence. So cute, she was. "It was a spirit that was finally set free. The others are awakening now."  
"That was NOT just some spirit! It was something else, something intense... something evil..." said Rena indignantly.  
"Fine then, they're 'evil' spirits," Dante joked.  
Rena was silent. "That's not a good omen," She muttered back, once again random. "My left eye is twitching. That means ill fortune; whatever 's down the hall is dangerous and cunning."  
Dante rose an eyebrow. Step away, should he? "You study everything, don't you?" "Whatever interests me, whatever snags my knack." Rena answered, as-a- matter-factly.  
"You're what?"  
"Knack: something that appeals to a certain group of persons or person." replied Rena. "That's my definition, anyway."  
Dante chuckled. "Fine, whatever... You just never told me that you study superstition,"  
"Yup. I study mythology and supernatural, as well as Japanese and Spanish language."  
"Well that's natural: it's in your blood." Dante walked into the dark doorway.  
"Really? Then how do you explain my interest in –"  
SLAM!  
The door slammed shut on its own free will, as soon as Rena was behind Dante.  
Rena turned around, startled with her hands in a combat stance. She looked around and then it hit her: they couldn't turn back, even if they wanted to.  
"Oh that's WONDERFUL," said Rena sarcastically profound to hide her fear. "Now we're locked in!"  
"Don't be so sure. We can find a way out with this," Dante responded. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a stone in his hand. It was a dark blue color and hard to see in the darkness. He brought the stone close to his lips and blew a small, crisp breath.  
The stone reacted by glowing with light. Its color had changed from hard-to-see cobalt to a now bright turquoise. It cast intricate shadows along the decorated walls of golden runic letters and gothic artwork.  
"Oh that's cool! Where'd you get the Luminite from?" Rena asked, happy that she got to see the rare magic of the stone of the Underworld.  
"Mallet Island... Waaay before you were born, even before your mother and me were married."  
"Mallet Island," Rena repeated. "Isn't that the place where the secondary battle between a Sparda and the Dark Emperor happened?" She walked closer to Dante, close enough to cling.  
Dante nodded.  
"I knew it... -- That Sparda was you?!"  
He nodded again as they began to walk down the hallway.  
"Wicked awesome!"  
Dante held out his Luminite crystal and walked on. The shadows danced from the corner to corner of the hall, hiding behind the melting wax of many candlesticks. The small lights showed the red carpet that journeyed beneath their boots. Paintings were hung with strange intent; some were color coordinated, then subject coordinated, then organized at random. Bloody wars, elegant maidens, even a picture of a husband with his pregnant wife, their smiles carved with emptiness  
Rena flinched with a wave of chills. She was creeped out beyond average. Was that truly wind she felt blowing around her? It would have put out the candles, leaving them in darkness. No, it was a spirit all right, one so evil she could still feel it around her, somewhere... Right now, a fog drifted from the walls and nowhere, making the path barely see able.  
She looked to the walls for a comforting moment, only to find something that was completely disturbing, yet intriguing all at once.  
"Dad, come take a look at this!" She stopped in front of it to watch it and it's magical ability to show a film that moved like actual human beings. They moved like, like they were alive! She could not believe it!  
No one answered.  
"Dad?" She looked away from her movie. Sometimes her dad would be doing something else whenever she asked a question or makes a statement. And always he would respond but...  
Silence.  
"Dad?" She whirled around frantically. "Dad! Where'd you go? Dad!"  
Still there was no answer, no movement.  
She was all alone and on her own. She turned around and calmed herself down before she watched the movie... Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She opened her ice crystal eyes and watched the show. It was the scene of a person running to a another, happily and unknowingly; that person gets stabbed from behind; the other running to catch the bleeding comrade; the stabbed person dying in the person's arms; that person moving his/her lips to form final words; dead; the one who caught him/her weeping over the cold, dead body.  
"Dad should see this..." She freaked. Who were those people? She felt like... she knew but... she didn't. "He really needs to see this, but he's gone..." She removed her eyes from the painting and started running down the hall.  
She came to a fork split in the pathway and skidded her heels to a stop. "Damn." She cursed. "Which way?" In her ears she heard her own heart beating. In her mind a voice spoke: 'Somewhere where the roads cross, destiny awaits..." It's voice was distant and misty...  
She thought for a while.  
Where did Dante go? Which path did he take? Where would it lead him? Why didn't he tell Rena where he was going? When will he return?  
"Hmm... Dad wants that key to the center door... He probably went right. Then, I'll go right, 'cause I'm pretty sure he went right," She murmured. "I'll try and find the key. Perhaps I'll see him on the way..." 'Somewhere where the roads cross, destiny awaits..." her mind echoed. "Destiny awaits...."  
Rena nodded to the voice, as though she agreed with its statement.  
She smirked. What a risk taker. She shot down the shrouded hallway with incredible speed, hoping for her father to be there, hoping to find the key. Hoping to find no trouble...  
  
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Hey guys, this is Seal sayin' that cliché phrase: Read an' REVIEW!!! XD Later, chapter five is being worked on. Heh, you guys are so wonderful and I love your reviews. They are so wonderful; I could get high off of them!  
  
DMC crew: (takes a few steps AWAY from Seal, while she doesn't notice)


	5. Chapter 5: Demon Seed, part 1

Disclaimer: (Very deep breath…) WHY-MUST-I-REPEAT-MYSELF-?! RENA AND THE INFORMATION AND THE LEGENDS AND THIS STORY IS MINE – DEVIL MAY CRY IN GENERAL BELONGS TO CAPCOM NOBODY ELSE And I'm saying all of this without taking one single refreshing breath while explaining who Dante belongs to Not me not you only Capcom and Trish-person Only then will you see what I mean if I stress my lung capacity to make a final point! (N/A: Try and say that without breathing once. I can do it, how about you?)

Rena: Y'know, there's this little thing called 'Breathing'. You might wanna try it sometime.

(Death Glare) Oh, just shuttup, person! And 'sides, that's my line! I AM THE ONE WHO MADE IT UP, PERSON!

Rena: … Why do you put a 'person' suffix at the end of a name or even address them as Person? It gets really annoying!

(Shrugs) I just do.

Rena: Fine. Start talkin'… (Puts a gun to the side of FalchionSeal's head)

Well…

NOTE: I wrote the notes and announcements before finishing the chapter just to inform my valued readers and reviewers on what's going on in my little world.

I'm very sorry about it being so long for this one to be posted. My brother has been playing his WarCraft III on the only computer in the house that has my DMC fanfiction files. He has gotten on everyday since he bought it. Man, he made me get behind on everything I do on-line. But, that's not the only reason why this took so long to get up: I'm flippin' lazy! But, other than those two reason, there's only one thing that will stop me from finishing this story –

Rena: That fact that I have a gun to the side of your fat head?

No. Actually I was leaning more towards bloody stubs for hands but I guess that would be another reason, now wouldn't it?

Rena: I'm waiting…

Righty then. Let's get this show on the road!

Anyway, in addition to this rare chance to post, I've started school again, so my updates will be few and far between. While you wait for new chapters, keep this in mind. "Patience is a virtue…even though I don't have a lot of it." That's what I always say! (REALLY)

Hey, has anyone read the DEVIL MAY CRY comic book from Dreamwave Productions' Patt Lee and Brad Mick? It's AWESOME! All though, there's only four parts and it takes them ages to get new issues out (1st was in March and the 2nd just came out late July and the third one came out recently). I've collected all that have come out so far, and will continue to. The end of this year bares a great thing for those who LOVE the DMC series like I do. Mark your calendar people, 'cause on December 7th, 2004, Devil May Cry 3: working title is being released for the PS2! Oh, yeah, baby! But, bare in the darkness of your conscience that the release date is scheduled to change. I'll be sure to let you know if it does. Email me if you have any questions or if you want more information on DMC3. I got stuff flowing out of my ears I know so much. Let me get a Q-tip and dig out some for you. (Yeah, I know… 'Nice image there Sarah, trying to make us barf?')

Also, it has been annouced that some time in 2005, there will be a movie which many will die from watching it, either in shock and awe, or a poorly timed heartattack, because…wait for it… it's DEVIL MAY CRY's first live action movie –ever! The movie is said that it will be a Hollywood film with a budget of 40 million or 40 billion. Can't remember. And ya know what? If it sucks for other people, I will still watch it and purchase it on DVD and VHS, plus the soundtrack and any other merchandise! Heh, when it rains, it pours! XD!

Remember how I introduced selected music for certain parts in the story? It hasn't been turning out quite right, since I uh… don't listen to many other people other than: Enya, Elton John, Three Doors Down, Linkin Park, Blink 182, Papa Roach, Quarashi, Rob Zombie, The 14-year-old-girls, TOTALLY RADD!, Mad at Gravity, Saliva, Cold, Kid Rock, and Evanescence. Please, if you want to help me, tell me a name of a song, and I'll try and find a MP3. Thank you in advance. And if the whole plan fails, who cares! :)

You might want to know this if you really enjoy reading this fanficton, and want to read as new chapters pop up: There are over 15 long chapters (and counting, may I warn you) in planning, and I don't know how long it'll take to get to the finish line. Maybe it'll take seven days, seven weeks, seven months, or seventy-seven years, I don't know. As I like to say, "To rush a work of creativity, you rush the little details. When you rush little details, you give your creation an early death." Heh, that's one I made up. Heh. Anyway, what I mean is, this story is my jewel, my pride, and I don't desire it to be any less than fantastic. Because of school and a schedule that's like hell, excuse my lateness and lack of updates. Oh yeah, and get used to a thousand apologises.

BEFOREWARNED! Y'know why? Language is being notched up in this chapter and the violence is… gruesome, for some. Saying this, I WARN you. Yes, I WARN you to be wary of what crazy, psychiotic things that may slip into my writing. Heck, even I got worried after reading an article on rateing Devil May Cry fanfiction from one of my sites I was planning to publish in. Dude, this would be, with what is planned and what's not going to be revealed here, is looking to be a close-cutter of a 'Shadow' fiction and a 'Fetish' fiction (email for details). Sorry, fans, but I am regrettably forcing myself to give my fiction… a…. a…. Oh I can hardly say…an R-rating. EEEK! To be quite frank, the whole franchise would fit that rating. But um… PLEASE! Don't hate me! PLEASE keep reading, and if I get out of hand, TELL ME! Don't let me go rabid forever (unless it's funny…). Okay, and when I get out of hand –a MAJOR if-when- Go get a stick from your backyard and poke the living crap out of me –OUCH! –

Rena: Hey, you said if you got out of hand to poke you. And you were… You're talking too much. Introduce the story before I aim for your eye!

Erragh. I was DEAD serious! Clears throat Well, if you have any objections to what has been proclaimed let me know. A million thank yous in advance. (Yeah, get used to those too)

Rena's happy that it starts to move quicker…

OH! And if any of you guys have pictures, fanarts, or personal comments about the story, go ahead and send me an email. I'd love to see what you guys have come up with! (Hey, send me the female Dante picture, -----------)

…And then she winces at FalchionSeal's loud gab-hole

Well, enough stalling -- ARE YOU READY? Ready to read a chapter of mystery and action-y goodness, mixed with blood, sprinkled with delious cruelty and gorey explosions dashed with silver bullets of pending doom? Get out the mega bag of potatoe chips and a nice refreshing, cold six pack of Coca-cola, 'cause it's here at last. Longer than past chapters, this one is a doozy (not to be confused with 'Woozy'). More pounce to the ounce. More than you can imagine and –

Rena: Get on with it!

--And I really need to stop with the metaphors and just let you go. Behold! Chapter Five: Demon Seed

Ugh, maybe I should change the title? I hate titles. Ah, forget it. It's the story that counts…right?

Rena: Finally, the authoress notes are done… ONWARD!

Leaving note: --

Rena: GRRR!! (finger on gun trigger)

-- NO ONE, I repeat, NO ONE EVER helps me with my DMC story in matters of characters, plot, and storyline, that's my deal. Though people have kindly offered, I just go for it. I wanna run the road I found for my self, y'know? I've got so much planned that it's going to knock you so hard your teeth won't remember where they're from. In other words, this is going out with a bang. A big one. REALLY. …Like, BOOM! Er, so, I'd be most gratful if you'd let me live by my own feeling. I don't want a comprimise, I want the real, the genuine stuff. It's been trapped inside of me since July '03, and now I'm letting out my lovely creation of DOOM onto your DOOMED heads… No, I'm just kidding. But um, to continue, I write everything – the details, sentence structure, accidental mispellings – and no one has told me how to write. They like what they read. Now, if you do too, please just read, review, and if you want, draw to let me know you wanna help. And to be honest, that's all the help I need to carry on and deliever the goods of my most popular fanfiction written in my life… PUWA ha ha ha. Uh… HA!

Rena: Done yet?

No.

Rena: Damn it!

If you're wondering what allows me to put in so much details are three things.. uh, y'know what? I'll tell at the end of the chapter.

Rena: Finally!

Thank you and happy reading!

(F.Y.I.: This is only part one of Demon Seed, I repeat, only part one!!!)

Oh, and one last thing I promise you…

"HENSHIN- NO- GO- GO, BABY!" (More on that next time, see part 2)

Rena:??? (blink blink) Whaat?

Chapter 5: Demon Seed, prt 1

-- -- --

THE CRIMSON-COATED DEMON SLAYER MADE HIS WAY down the dark hallway, seriousness furrowing his masculine brow beneath bangs of pure platinum hair. The silence that followed him was stranger than he could have ever thought.

In his days of living alone, silence was a frequent visitor, especially on the weekends when business was sluggish. It never bothered him, never made him think of his future, never made him even plan on what could be and what could not be.

He was a lone wolf, and proud of it! But, there came a day when all that changed. That change began with the woman named Trish. And with the woman moving into his place and becoming his partner after the bizarre and terrifying events of Mallet Island, new emotion embraced his icy heart and shattered the locks of misery. His heart urged him to say, "I love you!" but he hardly had the courage and could not find a way to. His mind told him to forget his fears and to think of a way to have her love, heart, and hand in marriage. Eventually, he gave in, sorted through his thoughts, feelings, and sensations, and asked the woman of his dreams to marry him.

His stubborn habit of working on cases alone was reduced to become rather small when he and Trish wedded on June thirtieth. But his one-ness with silent contemplation to himself and fondness for one-man jobs didn't leave fully until a great miracle had happened when Trish announced two years later that she carried his seed… His life style changed from sweet solitude and lonership to social interactions even more profoundly, when his only daughter was brought into the world. Since then, he hadn't been truly alone, his wife and child always by his side, physically or in his mind.

As Rena was growing up, Dante contiued to hunt demons secretly with only Trish knowing. He'd do the job, but sometimes Rena would be bothering him in his conscience. You shouldn't be here, his mind would tell him, Rena is becoming a woman everyday, and you're not there watching her! Go to her, you won't always have her.

Sometimes he'd do as his heart told him, most of the time he'd finish the job. As said before, he's never been truly alone. But today was different from all the rest.

His wife was somewhere in the labyrinthine castle domain, dead and rotting, or alive and waiting, or possibly a wife to another man?! No! Why, anyway…? Now exactly why was he thinking such… immersive thoughts at a desperate time like this? He had to find Trish, to find if she was okay, well, and alive. Oh, he prayed, like a priest praying to the Lord through white clouds and ever-blue sky. He prayed to the Lord that none such unfortunate events have befallen her.

He felt as though he was alone at that exact point in the passage of lagging time, as though Rena was lost… His daughter would usually be talking to him, keeping him company and entertaining him with her antics. From all the years of raising her, Dante knew for a fact that Rena was highly social. She wouldn't keep quiet for extended periods of time, unless something was troubling her in her mind. And when something is bothering her, it's his job as a father to see what's up. Though he kept his eyes on the hallway ahead, he couldn't help but think what possibly could be wrong…

Did she know if Trish really was dead? Did she find out about a spirital link to her mother and felt ashamed to tell? Did she know something he didn't about Mundus? Why wouldn't she tell him these things? …Was she starting her monthly cycle? She could tell him anything. He had always told her that since as long as she had learned her first words. He would believe anything she said even if it meant he was a fool to take seriously the frivolous tales of a teenager's overactive, swollen creativity lobe.

He pondered upon what to say. So many questions wanted to rush out of him, so many pleading for answers and relief, but he had to remain composed and think of a way to not seem so bold about it. A certain combination of words might make her spill everything she knew and what and why she's not telling him.

"Hey, Rena…" he spoke up at last. "You're pretty quiet. Somethin' on your mind?" He waited for her answer. He anticipated her usual exasperated sigh of dismay. Sometimes, she'd whimper out of confession or laugh and say, "How'd you know?" accompanying it with that trademark smile that she with no doubt give, the one so hauntingly similar to his that it creeped out her mother everytime the two of them gained up on her.

Not this time. It seemed as though Rena wasn't with him.

Silence. Absolute, breathless silence.

"Rena, I know something's up. You're upset, aren't you?" He smiled warmly to himself. Good start, he thought. Keep working it like this, and we'll get the whole goods and a bonus. "Don't worry. You're not alone in this crazy mess of a scheme… I right here with– "He reached down to touch her shoulder, however, he grabbed air. He looked down with a dumbstruck expression, " –you. Rena?" He whipped his head to look in back of him. There wasn't a slow moving imprint of a probably-already-exasperated-teenager. Instead, shadows glowed eerily, as if they wanted to push Dante's buttons into making him believe that she had ran off to find her own way to get to Trish faster, inspite of his wishes, like an imbecile who rushed into things headfirst, defying the saying "Think before you act."

"Great…" sighed Dante. "She's gone." He shook his head in disapproval. He knew she wasn't like that; when she was younger, she always would stay close to his side. A Daddy's girl, through and through, even to this day. "Fate, you're my mortal enemy?" He asked to himself. How come he didn't sense her leave of presence? He's a freakin' half demon, for gwad's sake, how could he have missed her?! It makes no sense; he couldn't grasp the logic that meandered before him.

He lowered his head and glared at the ground, confusion buzzing his mind and fragmented ideals sprouting rootlessly… How could she have just left? Why hadn't he noticed this beforehand? How did she slip past him? Where was she now? Is she okay? Did she find Trish? Did she and Lucia make it out of the Castle of Hopelessnes? How was their health? Did Rena get injured? Is she… dead?

What is going on in this demented hellhole?!?!

All went deathly silent as the cryptic answer waltzed about the hall in an enchanting, dazzling, horrid dance. He stiffened at the change and his mind was set a-wander. Was he truly alone at the moment? He was if Rena wasn't there. Any idiot could see that. She was the only one who was with him when they went in… except there were those spirits she mentioned earlier. Could they have something to do with it?

"Somewhere where the roads cross, destiny awaits." sang an unseen spiritual being, quoting what Rena had said a little before they continued there search, perhaps it was RENA's ghost who told him that, or his own hullusinating mind, whatever. He cared not, though worry was all his instincts told him to do.

Chills dashed up and down Dante's nerves and his spine felt like a pipe full of cold running water, as though he were submerged in a frozen body of water, like he was suffering hypothermia.

Creepy, creepy, creepy would have been Rena's words, knowing how she is, so typical of a behavior it was indeed.

"Destiny, huh?" asked Dante to the ghost or unknowingly aloud and to himself. "So –"

"We will meet again, no matter what…" Rena's voice refrained, bouncing through his brain. Haaa… Just an imprint of memory, was all. Dante breathed easy as his puzzled brain sorted out the rest of the sentence. "Like old friends…" her voice said. "Old friends…."

"Destiny awaits," spoke the other, haunting voice, "Destiny… Destiny awaits." It repeated. The spirits, indeed, had awoken! Tricky little bastards that tried to lure you into belief by falsehood and deceit.

Dante stood there in a startled position. "Rena will find me, no matter what you say, souls… So, lead the way." He said to the voice.

The voice seemed astonished and didn't speak anymore to the aware and cautious Dante. Minutes passed.

Silence still lingered in a supernatural sort of way. A chilling feeling told Dante to go forewards into the seemingly endless hall. If Dante were to go down the hall, would he make it to Rena in time? Or would he find Trish on the way there? What would happen first? What would he do? What should he do if that actually happened and Rena couldn't be found thereafter? Oh, Dante prayed that his thoughts were wrong!

Before moving on, he cast a dear, longing glance to the opposite way of the hall.

Still no Rena.

Dante sighed rather sadly. "I'm sorry Rena…" he murmured softly, clenching his teeth to contain unessissary words. "I promised long ago that you wouldn't be alone…" He said hastily and turned back around, quickly. In his mind he thought of his loved ones. In his spirit his heart bled for them. With mingled emotions, he ran farther down the hall, bolting at high velocity as if a pack of hungry, hydrophobic wolves were at his heels. He had to find Trish, he had find Rena. If he didn't, he wouldn't be able to live on.

A promise made. A promise to keep.

RENA LOOKED AROUND THE STRANGE AREA with profound aggravation as she trudged through the dim halls. "Geez, this stupid castle's a freakin' labyrinth. And if I get lost," she cleared her throat and faked a mock tone "'a black creature shall come and consume my body, dragging my mortal soul by the ankles, to the deepest regions of Shoal.' " – Shoal is the Hebrew term for 'the grave', which was translated from the Arabic Bible later on as Hell, by the Roman Catholics in 400 BC-something. Today it is still referred to as 'the grave' and since Hell is an eternity of burning and agony, it means humans only go to Hell in the End of the World, where they die a second death and cannot be reborn. — " 'And into the river Styx, where my face will melt and my morals will be muddied,' or so says the book I just quoted." Rena said to herself, her lips fleetingly forming the title silently.

A quick grin flashed. "If my soul is devoured, well then, Dad'll take vengence and I'll kick whoever-sent-me-to-the-grave's butt through a demension portal! PUWA ha haha!" She grinned at the remark. She was only making jokes to keep herself unworried. "Cool…" her mood seemed lighter after that string of thoughts. She had this strange ability that allowed her to trick her mind and will into being delighted and cheerful. She laughed softly to herself as she came across a lone door that appeared to be… panting? What the…?

Rena stopped suddenly and brought herself to the present time being. Her eyes scanned the breathing door as it exhaled and inhaled, as if it retrieving a breath long lost. Sweatdrops formed on her brow… She wondered why the door was so… alive. What could be on the other side? A monster? A demon? A dark entity? Perhaps the Big Man –that Mundus dude-- himself? Or rather, was it all an illusion, one that twisted reality and fooled with the mind? An illusion so powerful, it could bend the strongest of wills into becoming weak and feeble, all bravery melting into a pitiful mix of fear and the notion to runaway and hide?

It's probably nothing, she thought, Nothin' to worry about… So long as it doesn't ripe me to shreds, I'll be just peachy… Really.

The door suddenly moaned and it scared Rena practically clear out of her wits; it seriously WAS alive… Or was it?

"Like I said before," she said, this time out loud, her eyes transfixed on the door wide and somewhat fearful with wide pupils. "Peachy, if not killed while trying to make friends." She breathed deeply before outreaching her hand for the golden doorknob of the demonic living door. She inhaled through her nose and blew out her lips as they curved slightly into a silent, weary grin to herself.

With one slick movement and a flick of her wrist, she flung open the door and stepped in.

"Holy…Shit," the word she hardly ever uttered, a forbidden expletive, pushed through her lips and echoed eerily throughout the wide dome-like room, with water that came up about one fourth of the way up her calves. Yellowing dying plants of unknown species grew from the murky water, each with strange spikes and points on their leaves and broad, short stems hardly seen amoungst the many of leaf-plumes. The walls were covered in a thick muck, a slime that was otherworldly and disgusting like demon snot, a substance as putrid as freshly spewed vomit splattering through the misty air. Cobwebs of invisible spiders hung from the doorway arch, looming as if to trap unsuspecting human prey and suck their fluids dry and eat their bones. A stomach churning smell assailed her sensitive nostrils that made her stop in her tracks before continuing onward in the room, a stench fouler than three day old mule dung. The room, in its vast size and area, appeared to be a twisted, ruined, abandoned ballroom of the previous master and mistress, a fantasy court that had seen much better days of parties, beauty, dancing, and laughter.

"What—freaks would build a place as useless as this? What the heck! I mean, come on, THINK!" She whined, treading in the mysterious water splishing and splashing entertainingly with every step she took. "Who the hell needs an indoor jungle, unless they're some kind'a mutant monkey-human-apish…THING?" She scoffed. Complaining ever more, this time muttering under her breath, she walked on towards another door on the otherside of the room. She felt so pissed at the moment. She couldn't find her way around that damn place. She couldn't find her father or her mother or Ms. Lucia, whom she hoped would have crossed her path already. Her stomach growled. Her boots were now filled with water to her toes, wetting her socks. It was just not her day.

"Freakin' haunted house… stupid door… Dad's overprotectiveness –yeah right… damn it all…." She muttered. She gritted her teeth, not watching the ground, and then she tripped, falling on her knees into the strange, thick water-like liquid. She growled in anger. "DAMN IT ALL!" She shouted. Her voiced echoed emptily against the repulsive walls, like a person's yell out in Death Valley that resounded in the distance and to the open, clear skies.

She picked herself up off the floor, dripping wet with that weird solution. "Fantastic," she said. "Now I gotta do laundry when I get home." Rena hated every bit of this moment, almost everything that happened to her. What the hell was Mundus planning? And why on a perfectly normal Saturday? Damn, that freak's got some bad timing skills.

Rena was royally ticked. She hadn't been in this bad of a mood since her mother went through her room and cleaned when she was gone over at the Yu-gi-Oh tournament, thinking it as being a 'kind favor'. Man, she raised hell that day. Her mother hasn't dared a step in her territory since. "Ooh, when I get my hands on that Mundus fellow, he oughta beg for mercy, or I'll kill him quicker than anybody can say—"

A HISSSS scratched through the air, a noise made by a vile dark creature, a racket that sounded like it were made through clenched teeth and made stronger through the chambers in the roof of the mouth. It seemed to bounce off the walls and become louder each time, like a fly trying to find an open window to the outside.

" – What the fuck?" Again, a disgusting combination of words (that her father ardently banned to ever touch her lips and glide across her tongue until she was fourteen) was unleashed and she had forgotten what she had said exactly as she had said it.

She checked over the room with shifty eyes of wolf-gray color. Her nose twitched at a scent she had never smelt before, a strange odor that seemed rather unearthly, like the wind after a harsh mid-eve hurricane tempest after taking many, many human lives with it. The hairs on her neck bristled on end and her skin pebbled up as well. But of all the sensations, she listened hard with her ears. Only the silent nothingness that had surrounded her since she was separated from her father. It was so peculiar, and twisted and not at all reasonable. And the hissing noise seemed to have stopped.

Dubious about her surroundings, Rena looked slowly around before walking on. She kept her eye on the area behind her as she walked faster –

HIIISSSS!

The noise stopped her in misstep. This time it came almost from nowhere, but whatever it was, Rena could defiantly sense its presence. Smell it. Feel it in her bones. And, strangely, almost even taste it and its bitter flavoring from Hell, whatever it was, whoever it was.

She looked around. Whatever it was was freaking her out, and she did not like it at all. This just made her more vexed. Her blood raced throughout her body and she could hear her own heartbeat in her ears, beating like a scared deer's. Her breathing took a step up the latter and she began to practically hyperventilate, which she stopped instantaneously.

HHHIISSSS!

It came from behind her. She whipped her head to her front. Her eyes met nothingness once more.

HHHIISSSS!

The racket thundered from her left flank. She gasped and swiped her hand to slap whatever it was but she punished only a ghost that was not there.

HHHIISSSS!

It sounded from her right. While turning around, she did a selfdefensive front face punch with her left arm. Again there was nothing there to wield a fight against, only the misty air of the grim room.

"Hunh," she growled under her breath, closing her eyes, and then opening them again slowly, as if trying to see past the surface of the illusion she swore played in front of her eyes, and in front of her mind, forcing her on the edge of her sanity that threatened to spill out of her and into the cosmos, as it balanced delicately.

She turned her head side to side almost frantically, in a desperate quest to grasp a hold upon the reality that there was something in the room, that something was unmistakingly out of place. The sound vibrated throughout the haunting, empty room, rocking Rena's ribcage unnaturally, so peculiar and so perverse. It was becoming louder, new noises frequent.

HISSSS! HISSS!

What was that? Where did it come from? A thousand questions, a hundred answers, and a million doubts.

HISSSSS! HISSSSS!

Who was that? Why are they doing this, where are they, what are they. Nothing but thoughts, such blank thoughts, mainly feelings and sensations. Nothing to understand, but only a topic that her mind meandered on forever. Why, why, why….

Rena didn't know how to handle this sense of annoying paranoia. Nothing was there, she said to herself; it's your mind playing tricks… Dirty dealing… Nevermind the tricks, it ain't real… Normally, she'd believe in anything but there was something about that moment that would not let it sink it at ease.

She began to worry, steadily, but her heart wanted to burst out her chest cavity and skitter neurotically across the floor and out the doorway… Thump, thump, runaway now, you still got time, thump, thump, it went, run now before I do...

Grasp the moment, said her soul, take your fear, and fling it.

Then she heard a little voice in the back of her head saying: you're strong, undefeatable, why worry? You've got this far, now go for it!

Who to believe, what to believe, and why believe it now?

All was dead silent in the room of the Waltz of Bewilderment. For the longest of short moments did Rena sigh in relief yet she truly did not. She still felt queasy in her gut about it all. She couldn't leave until she checked her surroundings, until she assured herself that –

"Hey,"

That did it. She was officially not alone. This word came clear as a bell to her and the voice that spoke jabbed at her ears as harsh as a numerous amount of pins prodding her receptive parts. It came, as she could tell, from far in the back of the creator's throat, deep from within the chest, and breathed out loud through the top of the eyes (A metaphor musical instructor's use when referring to voice projection. When you shout out your from the top of the eyes, you're speaking/singing your loudest). The voice came clear from the ceiling. What?

Instincts kicked in the shift and Rena looked up, eyes rigid with shock and hysteria, gasping at what she had laid her innocent eyes upon, a sight to haunt her for ages and ages to come, ages still awaiting to be counted into her life's library. Who, who, who, now, who.

She beheld a monster. A disgustingly beautiful creature of naval blue scales, like a snake's, and blazing, passionate amber eyes, flickering with the dying embers of a flame. Its mouth seemed large enough to swallow a human whole; each jaw lined with two rows of pearly white teeth and fangs. A scar flashed from one of his pointed, humanoid ears, a deep notch had been cut out and the lobe was pierced with many, many earrings and stubs of glimmer. His long, long claws, like a raptor's, dug deep into the mossy ceiling, fastening him securely as though he were to ambush her at any given moment. His tail appeared not fully developed, she observed, for it was short and its spikes came only about haft way up the tail and then branched up his spine. But this creature, whatever he was, did not seem to be demonic though he resembled a Blade, a lizardman-like demon she had found out about in one of her father's files whilst rummaging upstairs in the attic.

Rena whimpered. Her leg muscle twitched in fear. Adrenaline pumped through her veins. Blood sung in her ears. She sweated. And then her sight and other senses sharpen dramatically and her forearms tightened, same with her thighs and calves, preparing her to run more than fight. She stared at the creature's haunting handsomeness. The voice inside her called out: RUN NOW! Her heart thudded against her ribs painfully like she had been running miles and miles on no end, running away or running to something… but what?

The scared eyes of Dante's flesh and blood reflected this conflict that raged in her soul, in her mind, wither to fight or to run, to win or to forfeit, to stay or to go, to honor or disgrace her family of legends.

Another whimper escaped her lips. A memory dashed through her mind. "We will meet again." Her father, she remembered, had disappeared from her in the mist of the hallway. Her mother had been stolen from her during the storm. Her newfound friend, Lucia, whom she felt she could trust as she had a good feeling for her, was somewhere else in the castle, probably battling against wretched beings of another world. She thought of each of them, and she thought of her own words. "We will meet again." She thought of her father's love, not of her mother's absence but her thoughts towards her she had, Lucia's smile and what she meant to all three and then a warming strength came in to her… Running away would be letting them down –

The creature sneered coldly. "Amussssing… The Devil'sss child iss frightened…" She didn't hear what he/it had said, but with his spoken words he pounced to the water, violently shaking the ground sending a huge wave of water over Rena, which she scarcely missed and yet still falling on her tush nonetheless.

She sucked air through her teeth in annoyance. Her eyes, once pale as ice, flickered red as fleeting as the pain that shook her bones and rattled her mind. She had caught herself by her palms as an effort to keep dry and 'twas in vain.

Her mind yanked out a memory from the recent history of that day. Her parents' prenatal adventure files about a Blade creature. Mentioning that it fought with sharp, long claws and lethal jaws, it said that Blades continuously attack their prey, ripping away their flesh and defending their food like primitive beasts, though that they were not. Their appearance was that of a lizard-man from the fantasy tabletop war game, Warhammer, which meant they walked on twos and sometimes carried massive shields but no swords. Blades are able to swim in water and her father, who wrote the file, hypothesized that they are a mutated form of Amphibian species. However, according to Rena's own observations, this Blade was different from the picture that she had discovered in the file. This one seemed more human, now that it advanced to her as she lay there in the muck. He walked on twos, he had a golden belt around what was his waist embossed with runic letters and a huge green emerald, and from it hung a lap of cloth like the front part of a shaman's robe. What was he…?

Step by step, he walked towards her coolly. The water splashed from his massive feet, making Rena's insides twitch in fright in knowledge of their possible fate. His eyes glimmered violently with bloodlust. Soon he shallst gourmandize in her bloody lifeless corpse and grow stronger with her burning soul-essence. He will bring a smile to his Master's face and earn a high seat in the Court of the Sky. He will be known as a hero! Once this little girl is dead and soulless, he shall gain his beautiful body back through her sacrifice… For now, this girl had to die…. He couldn't let this chance to redeem himself slip by him like the winds of change blowing lithe over the empty dells and mountains. It 'twas now or never!

Instincts pinched Rena's nerves. No warning, upwards she jumped to her feet and readied her hands to the sword that remained in waiting strapped to her back. She had forgotten foolishly that she had it and a great pride swelled inside her. She smiled before she decided to move, but… She never fought with a sword, never even used one except the ones in her video games like Onimusha 3 and Soul Caliber 2. Only problem with that was the fact that her controlled characters did all the swinging and slicing. She had nothing to do with them except that she was the one on the living room couch with the controller in hand.

She knew it wasn't a wise thing to use something you're totally unfamiliar with. Who knows what that sword was capable of doing! No swordskill means no sword usage for this youngster. Nope. So, guns would have to do. They were the only other option besides Taekwondoe, and yet she was no expert of that either.

She wasn't an expert at any kind of combat, a Master of Nothing, a Lordess of Zip-o-de-none-o. Nothing could save her ass now. She was destined to be cooked and canned. She knew it. She had felt it earlier.

Nothing, nothing, nothing could save her –

Guns… well, she was sort of used to what they could do since she spend most of her time at the arcade spending her puny allowance on Time Crisis 2. That game had a simulator for even the recoil of the pistol.

Revelation sparkled in Rena's mind. Artemis and Themis were her only friends at this time. Yes, guns would do, they had to, in the first fight of Rena's young life. Her first fight she had walked into alone, the first fight she would fight on her own. And if so happens, the very fight she would die alone in…

"I've been waiting for you, the dear child of the legendary half-breed Devil and the REVOLTING human disaster," The way he said REVOLTING was as if it were the most unpleasant taste being described through emphasis and tone. He chuckled, stopping to gesture his claws as he spoke. "Yesss…. Ssseems to me that he had chosen well for his mate." He turned his reptilian-like head to her in an uncomfortable way. "You'll look lovely upon the wall with my countlessss other trophiessss." He laughed again; his raspy voice crackling at his own twisted humor.

Fear bubbled within Rena. And then hate. Soon courage conquered hate and she was more fearless than a defiant psychotic freak. Fearless! Ha, she didn't even fear… fear! Heck, she'd chop this freak up, she told herself, and he'll be HER lovely trophy to lighten the walls of the dead-dry Devil Never Cry.

"Ah, but we have a misunderstanding… You see," Rena's trademark grin warped and became laced with true bitterness; it was uncanny to a murderess' smile. Her eyebrows narrowed and her eyes grew angry with raw ire like a raging bull. "I'm not scared of you, but you should be of me." She shook a finger at him, smiling to herself. "If I were you, I'd start asking nicely to be spared, 'cause remember me?" At once she stopped scolding him and cut straight to the deal… She threw he arms to her sides and shouted, " I am the everlasting image carved of unimaginable horror in your nightmares!"

Trash talk before showtime. Indeed that was all bluff and no verisimilitude was with it. In days in the early past, Dante actually was the same way. He had a big mouth that nearly got him killed ninety percent of the time. And from the looks of things Rena was shaping up to be the same way. Now it was apparent she was the daughter of the famous dark knight Dante; she was acting just like him! As Dante used to say to Trish (when she called him an idiot) after a rather bloody fight with a rebellious shade in a Las Vegas alleyway (They no longer live there. They moved when they found out Trish was pregnant.), "I do it for confidence and the thrills… I don't care if it makes me look sad. I just play the game the way I play the game. I ain't scared of 'em! Bring on the pain! I can take them all on! No sweat," but because he got carried away most of the time, he usually got smacked for that because talk is cheap in battle.

"Oooh, fiesssty are we?" he chuckled once more at his own expense. "You're going to be fun to kill –"

"You mean TRY to kill 'cause, yup, I will assure you" Rena speedily drew her .45 handguns, twirling them in the air stylishly for a show of eye candy. A smile flickered brilliantly across her young visage, lighting her features like a dim candle in the night. She struck a pose, her left arm crossed over her right elbow as her other arm, and gun lay on its side in the air as though a phantom examined it in all of its deadly still beauty. She was working up an action-y heroine's style, but she customized it into her own class with her shocking words "I don't go down easy. Never have and I never, ever will."

Duh! Of course she never went down – H-E-LL-LO! She had never EVER had fought before then!

Smiling with pleasure, the blade man began to circle her, perhaps to ambush her when she wasn't looking, perhaps to confuse her, perhaps to invoke a dark-minded fear that slept isolated in the very back-far regions of her conscience from commonsense. Whatever the unknown purpose, she followed his every puppet-like move, his every jerk and trip and the steps of his unique weaving, graceless waltz. His eyes flared with blood lust. Her eyes, the coldest of natural born killers, shone with hellish effulgence and bloody, gruesome intent.

Blade man shifted directions and faked her out twice but she wouldn't stand for it. She deeply frowned and clicked her triggers threateningly as if they spoke a secret, minuscule language that would be translated as "STAY BACK!" to the amphibious being if he couldn't already comprehend their message. Slim, impossible chance that he did.

He paused. Then grinned in a self-indulgent way. "Ahhhh… Jussst way I exsssspected…" A low laugh sounded from his clenched-shut jaws. "A devil huntressss through and through…" He continued circling around her, flexing and retracting his talons, licking his bottom jaw where his bottom lip would be with his long, pukey, dark blue-green tongue. "Mmmm… yessss, you were one from the day you were brought forth from your ssslutty human mother'sss womb and you will remain as a devil hunteressss till the day you die…"

"My mother is not a slut!" Enraged, Rena aimed wildly, pitch-black pupils dilated. "And today is not MY day to die –" Her eyes narrowed in total animosity, a deadly glint filtering from within the centers of ice-cold eyes. She bore her pearly teeth. Hate overpowered fear. " –It's yours!"

Infuriated and unthinking the beast man, flared by reckless words of a puny human and her obnoxious smart remarks, charged at with his talons drawn, shrieking like the howl of the bloody winds across a vacant field of fallen ones after a battle of silvers, shield, swords and souls.

"DIE ALONE!" he screamed. He aimed his attack at the vital vein in Rena's neck. If he landed it, she'd die in a fabulous gush of gore and healthy, rich blood. A delicious feast indeed!

She moved just slighty before his talons cut into her. The only thing that she lost was a lock of blond hair … Well that, and maybe her patience, too.

The beast rebounded for another strike, swatting then pounce like a large cat. Rena, however, true to her bloodline roots, never turned her back on him. That would be cheap. With lighting quick reflex, she unleashed her vindictive wrath through her implements of war, truly breathtaking in surpassing beauty. The blade man, unknowingly, dashed blindly in to the rain of bullets and was taken with sudden pain.

He roared in agony, arching his back to the sky and screaming to the moon. Where bullets met cobalt brawn, scales split and fled, and pools of black blood spewed to the air in a fountain-like arch.

He fell back and retreated into the darkest, dimmest part of the graveyard of a musty ballroom: The ceiling.

Rena smirked. Her beloved guns were her unmatched saviors in the petty engagement and later they would be thanked for it. Their smoke wafted into the pallor air and she breathed deeply.

Mere seconds passed. The breathless silence sprung upon her unexpectedly. It was her belief that she scared him off. She was about to lower her guns.

Suddenly three of the six chandlers burnt out. The half of the ruined ballroom where Rena entered was in darkness.

She clenched her pistols in preparation for another conflict. She closed her eyes and listened for even the slightest of movements, the faintest of heartbeats, the smallest of cries.

A disturbance like an arrow whistled in the air at fanatical speed. A dagger aimed for her neck hurtled towards her. Her extraordinary hearing picked it up. Her talent, something that would be absolutely impossible to have at birth, allowed her to thoughtlessly turn to her left flank and briskly aim upwards.

She chewed on her tongue. Her eyes flew open and locked on target.

One pull of the trigger was all it took to eliminate the threat. The bullet knocked the projectile off course.

Another dagger this time dipped in a lethal poison penetrated the wind of the dense room. Rena whipped right flank and instantaneously shot the dagger away from herself.

"You know, it's gonna take more than cheap tricks like that to take me down fool!" She snapped, still shooting out other daggers and knives that flew towards her as effortless as a professional sharpshooter did. "I am your END! Face me like it was meant to be!" Her smirk became a wild grin of a mass killer. A crimson flood came ablaze from crystalline eyes.

The Rena Dante knew had drastically changed.

A growl exploded from the humanoid creature. "You little bitch!" He released himself from the ceiling and bounded forth at her, zigging and zagging in attempt to make proper, accurate aim near hopeless.

Rena fiercely followed the blade creature with her eyes and medium movements. Once she was positive that she'd do damage, she pulled the triggers of Themis and Artemis. A spray of ammunition darted into the lizard warrior. They pelted into his no longer defended skin and he took great injuries.

Sparks and flashes blazed. The smell of blood and gunpowder mixed in Rena's nostrils.

She shuddered in sheer delight of it.

Empty shells scattered from her handguns to the ground that had now been dyed black. The blade man, whatever he was, could no longer escape the volley of fire and white-hot metal.

Rena didn't care about ammo. She didn't care about morals. She didn't care if the pathetic creature that bled before her asked mercy.

Then again, what was mercy?

The humanoid creature was beginning to give up. Bullets, too many to count, now lay inside him, some pierced just tissue, some went out the other side, some went straight to the bones, others agonized him as soon as they tore through his vital organs. In fact, a hole had been punctured in his gut and from it squirted some of his intestines and other things. The sights of his own entrails forced him to realize a horrible, horrible truth that spoke the moment.

There was no way he was going to survive after this if didn't get free.

Once he was so bloody you wouldn't know if he was still alive, Rena stopped shooting all together. The last of the ammomution shells fell to the water of the arena. She smiled coldly.

The amphibious creature flopped like a rag doll to the ground with grains of life still flowing in his torn veins. He had been reduced to something barely alive. He didn't move once he lay to waste in the thick water of the chamber of death.

Rena put away her guns. She gave a quick flicker of a cruel smirk. And turned around towards the door to leave the beast to suffer.

The lizard guy intensely felt the anguish pound against him. It was so horrible that the claw clenching his left forearm clawed into his own skin and caused it to cascade more ebony fluids. Angels of Satan beckoned to him from the otherside. A light in a swallowing darkness began to shine radiantly from a tunnel. But as these images came to him, his pangs worsened.

He howled in pain. His eyes flew open. He wasn't dead yet, god why wasn't he dead!? "What'ssss wrong, Devil child?!! Have you become sssoft?!" he called after Rena. He was gruesome to look at, and it was enough to want to run away at the sight of his mournful eyes.

The young slayer halted in midstep before reaching the door half way across the room from where he was. She turned slowly towards him. Blood red eyes blazed brighter than the infernos of hell.

"Come back and… FINSSSH ME!" he shouted.

Rena smiled. "My… PLEASURE," She unhloistered her sword, twirled it in her right hand, turned around, and charged. Spinning her blade through the wind above her head as she gave a war cry, she bolted radically all the way across the room. "HHHHYYYAAAHH!"

"YESSS!" cried Blade man. "End my agony!"

Insanity snatched Rena in to a turbulence of satisfaction. Her once beautiful eyes were deranged and wild, pupils small and glowing with a crescendo of power. She came upon the useless warrior of a monster, not a pause at the speed of a heartbeat, and she stabbed her blade in to his bony breast. Inky blood burst forth and splattered a fireworks display into the dank air. His fluids showered Rena's serious face.

She thrust deeper into the rib cage and reached his left lung. He gasped in anguish and screamed and screamed his woes to the spirits. She grinned hatefully and dragged her sword through him, splitting him evenly down the middle, slicing, and dicing his stomach, lower instensine, bones, and others. They sprung from him and his exploding blood bomb of a body like popcorn popping into the air. They splashed into the pool of liquid and flopped into a messy mix of black, writhing like naked worms and insects brought to light from the darkness of the soil.

She withdrew her blackened blade, staring down the pleading, gushing, shrieking shredded Blade-like creature, and smiled. She stuck her sword in the water and it remained. As she watched the mutant being suffer, she grinned ravingly at his unbearable, unimaginable pangs that banged his sensitive, unveiled nerve endings as they flinched at the pain of even a breeze. Her smile seemed etched into her visage, a mark of a hard-hearted hunteress that killed for thrill and the mere fun of it. Unknowingly Rena took one of her free hands and wiped coal colored gore off from her cheek with her index finger. She looked at it with bemusment and silent pondering, and then licked it off like some twisted freak, loving the sight and taste of carnage and defeated foes. Her eyes widened at the taste and then she scowled and flinched.

"Bitter." She muttered, rubbing the tips of her fingers together to rid them of the sticky texture and looking at them with disgust. She slipped her other hand to retrieve her indigo pistol from its holder.

The defeated lizard-being gapped and stared at her with dim, watering, fearful, dying eyes.

She met his gaze with a damning glare of hate. A flash of red. Then no trace of it ever being present.

She pointed the gun to his head (that he propped against a broken boulder) with her finger on the trigger.

"Die."

Her finger clicked the cold trigger. And she snuffed out her first life in a painless bullet through the head. His brains spilled out of his skull. Rena emotionlessly stared at them, stomach grumbling… and then laughed well, long, and maniacally at her fallen foe, shooting three more times to ensure the kill.

A GUNSHOT ECHOED THROUGHOUT THE HALLWAY and it catapultated Dante from his dazed wandering through wherever he was at the time. The sound echoed two more times and it flushed out the gloomy silence into excile. "What the hell was that?" he spat, stopping immediantly his steps.

Suddenly a thought, an unwanted consideration, flung itself at Dante and it scared him more than anything he'd could think of at such an inconviant time. His thoughts were these: Those gunshots were from the gun of Rena's murderer.

Dante wheezed wildly to berid the wretched thoughts, such vile, unpleasant, unneeded things! Rena obviouslyt meant the world to him, and with out her, the world meant nothing. Oh, he could barely force himself to imagine what his life would be like if Rena were dead. He'd destroy himself. Drinking, smoking and hours spent in darkness and blackouts. Oh he could just see it. He'd divorce Trish because she wouldn't be able to handle his emotional breakdown. He'd be alone. He'd never forgive himself if Rena left the world… In fact he might even commit—

"No! Rena… will survive. She will live on. She's strong. She'd hold her own; never give in. She's a Sparda and she would never give in whatever the stakes!"

He told him self this. But what if he were wrong?

------

Now, remember my beloved readers, THIS IS ONLY PART ONE OUT OF TWO! There is one more half to this chapter. Be patient. I'm working on it as soon as this is posted. Review if you want it sooner!


	6. Chapter 5: Demon Seed, part 2

Disclaimer: You should know this by now.

Ah, here we are again. Yet another installment in my ever growing Dance with life and death. I need to tell you all something that has nothing really to do with Devil May Cry (not as much info as I had last time). It pertains to my writing in general.

I have another fanfiction-in-progress. I will tell you three things: 1.) It's about a video game 2) That video game happens to be one of the Jak series and 3) Prologue is done! So, it's up and please swing by. Even if you do not know Jak at least tell me how I am writing. It would be a nice treat, a slight reprieve from DMC.

I fell in love with the DEVIL MAY CRY series all over again! I have been playing DMC3: Dante's Awakening near non-stop! I love it all; music, graphics, sound quality, action, humor, controls, camera control, styles, cutscenes, voiceacting, characters, story… and I'm just naming a few of the reasons I can't stop playing! So…. That's the excuse for this chapter: I was playing Devil May Cry 3 more than I was writing. You know what? It's true. : ) But I beat it, seen the secret ending, cried, laughed, replayed the full game, re-beat it, and now (though I am still playing it) here's part two after a long wait, right?

Anyways, I am gonna warn you ahead of time: THERE'S A DEVIL MAY CRY 4 COMING OUT! Yeah! It was announced at this year's Electronic Entertainment Expo down in California, said to be coming out on Sony's new console, the Playstation Three. No details on the console, but I've seen some sizzling trailers featuring the most beloved demon-slayer since Van Helsing in Bram Stoker's Dracula – DANTE! But enough of my stalling, dear fans;

Let's get the show rolling here.

Chapter 5: Demon Seed, prt 2 

---------------

**DANTE'S HEART WAS FEELING AS THOUGH** it was being unraveled, slowly, painfully, by worry. It would tear him to shreds if he would let it. His mind lurched on old memories . . . .

He threaded a gloved hand through his silvery locks as though in attempt to sweep the worry away in one careless movement. Worry would claim him, worry would destroy him. So worry he would not.

This was the price he paid for being a father. He worries for Rena, he cares for her, and how does she repay him?

He would have to get his answer once he located her in the labyrinth of the twisting halls and converging rooms. He smiled at that thought. He'd knew just what Rena would say. Her little smile would play out, sharply, magnificently brilliant, glowing with humor and joy. Her ice eyes, like his in everything but size, would sparkle with life energy, her blazing flame that blossoms at the bottom of her heart. Her jokes would be warming and yet unexpected in any sort. Her stance would be slouchy and carefree, resembling a pillow on a lofty couch. Her voice would be like a clarinet - soft warm tones, rich melody, and a harmony unsurpassed. Her mind would be ticking with the clockwork of stealth, gears turning while devising plans of getting what she wants, mechanics sifting through all possible situations and wordings before she speaks, carefully choosing her intelligent words. Her dirty blond hair would shimmer with high lights from the sunshine cascading into the living room window, like the finest gold mined from California, which is where they lived. Her delicate cheekbones would quiver and she laughed her huge, hearty laugh that informed the one that made her laugh that she had a gift - the gift to enjoy the simple, beautiful things in life.

He could just see it now - he asks her that question of wisdom, "What is the reward of parent hood?" while she sits in her favorite spot in his leather armchair, basking in the warm breeze of summer through an open window. She looks up from her Shakespeare novel, A Midsummer's Night Dream, her clever eyes peeping over the pages to look slyly up to him. Her hair is tickled by the aerial spirits of the summer's wind and she smiles her trademark grin. She sits up from her lounging position and sits forward on her blue-jeaned knees. She speaks in a wise-woman's tone, shaped as such from literature and writing and abstract artwork, "I can't answer that question. I am not a parent. I'm only a child -your child-and it is only you who can answer such an inquiry. However, if I was a parent with a child of my own" -she carries on with a casual transition - "I'd believe that the answer would be what I see with my own eyes . . . A child carries genes from both parents. And so the child looks like a mirror of them, living, breathing, and laughing just like them. And being able to teach my mirror image all the things I know now, but hadn't been taught as a child, would be a reward enough as it is. And so would seeing the child use that knowledge in the everyday world. That too would be the honey that lies in the comb…"

He did not need to ask her the answer that question anymore; she already answered it.

He stood with his eyes shut in the silence of the hall. He seen her image flicker repeatedly in his head, as he tried to mark out the things that was from his half of the gene pool.

Rena had his eyes and his chin. She had her mother's hair color and cheekbones. She had his eyebrows and his ears. She had her mother's nose and hairline. However, he ventured into her heart. Rena liked videogames. That was from him. She liked reading, that was from Trish, but she liked action and fantasy and that was from him. She did yoga. That was from Trish. She liked sweetened milk or tea when she got sick. That was from Trish. She liked rock n' roll, hard rock, and punk music. That was from him. She cracked jokes and wisecracks, drank Coca-Cola, watched Jet Lee movies, relished pepperoni pizza, and had the quickest wit when it came to catching little details, clues, and disturbances. All of that was from him. She enjoyed the blue of the sky, the scent of the wind, the whole concept of complex life made simple, and that in order to be remembered you must make a difference . . . Okaaay. He never really cared for nature or any of that other stuff, but neither did Trish. Where was that from?

One thing, however, was more apparent than anything else was; Rena had demonic qualities that were being to show through, a stirring darkness that once lay dormant inside her. It was the intense shockwave he had felt at the instant she was born. That was the first sign. He felt her power before she was even a day old. He knew she would be powerful, maybe even too strong to handle. Then as she grew more signs appeared. Her running speed increased. As did her intellect. One time, long ago when Rena was going to public school in the fourth grade, a boy had pushed her into the mud and she dropped her books. As a response, Rena shot up from the ground and grabbed the kid by his collar. All the other children fled as Rena held the schoolyard bully, the toughest kid around with a plump, mudballish frame, about two inches off the ground although she was shorter than he was. She asked him, nicely at first, to pick up her books and clean them off.

The little brat said no.

Rena grew stern with him and asked him again, this time more aggressive.

He still refused.

She attempted one more time to give him a chance to act before she grew tough.

He would not do it.

Then her anger flared (she was not a hot-tempered person but when someone did the wrong thing she would make sure they would repent) and she shook the boy, scaring him, growling threats from within clenched teeth. Her eyes blazed with ravenous hate and spite.

Before he could say no again, before Rena could do the absolute worst she had promised him, before he choked to death, the teacher, Ms. Hunkleburg saved the day. She pried Rena away from the little menace with massive force and gave her a scolding. Dante remembered being called on his cellphone that he carried on his person by Trish.

"Dante, you need to go to talk to Rena's teacher. She just called and said its urgent," came Trish from the ear phone he was wearing, keeping his hands free as he toiled away against a couple of Sand Eaters.

He fell a dust demon with his blade, chopping it to halves. It burst a mighty shriek and then died.

"Say that one more time?" The noise had buzzed his hearing.

"Rena got in trouble today at school. You need to go talk her teacher."

"What did she do?" He sounded almost bored, as though it was not uncommon.

"Rena got in a fight today … I can't go because I'm cleaning the house."

All was silent on the other side of the line.

"Dante? Did you hear me? I said she got--"

"-I'll be right over there," he cut her off. "Just let me kill the last shade and I'll head over there."

The reason why did he rush to school was the fact of how Rena NEVER got into any sort of a fight. Sure she was picked on because she was always reading and that she liked action figures and Pokemon (boy interests at the time), but she never fought back… Why suddenly did she decide to fight then? When he got to the teacher's office, Ms. Hunkleburg glared at him from her swivel chair, the chair barely holding her up from her heavy frame. Beside her stood the wretched boy and his little Rena, the boy looking positively innocent and Rena looking absolutely guilty and scared. By instinct, he wanted to go over to his daughter and hold her, tell her everything is all right, let her know that as long as she did not start the fight she was not in trouble.

"Mr. Sparda, please take your seat." said Ms. Hunkleburg. Her eyes were roundish and somewhat bulging, like a plump toad perched on a slime-covered stone. He floated to a seat and slouched comfortably, not caring that the teacher made an awful reaction to his body language.

"Mr. Sparda I--" She closed her eyes and looked away, then spoke up and shot a killing glare.

Dante merely smiled, "Please, just call me Dante,"

She cleared her throat, eyeing his silver hair color and then trying not to look at Rena's, wondering wiether it was his actually genetics or just a manifestation of his once young teenage self since she judged him as being one of those misfortunate individuals who become parents as teenagers.

She began again; " Dante, I hope you know what your daughter, Ms. Rena Eva Sparda, has done today? I pray that you are not too harsh at her for being a misguided youth? Oh, the people children will look up to these days..."

What the hell was the witch getting at?

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold the phone!" Dante snapped. "Rena's never done anything like this! She doesn't start fights; she finishes them!"

"Well, then, Mr. Dante--"

"Just Dante,"

"Well, then Dante" - she was peeved by his constant interruptions - "did you know that your daughter was the attacker and not the victim?"

Dante remained silent. His eye wandered a little ways over to Rena and then it snapped over to Ms. Hunkleburg.

"George, this fellow right here" - she grabbed him by the shoulder, gripping firmly, beaming - "was helping your Rena up from the ground when she tripped and fell in the mud via her own fat feet. When he tried to help her up, she lashed at him and held him by his collar."

The little wretch smiled and nodded through out the teacher's retellings of the event.

Rena let a tear slip down her cheek and she sniffled.

It burned Dante immensely to see his daughter cry.

"Poor George… couldn't breath. Luckily that another student came and brought me to the scene," she snatched a tissue from her desk and wiped away a tear, probably forced because she wanted Rena to get the worse possible treatment from the father of whom she always spoke proudly of.

Dante was deeply loathing this woman.

"I talked to Rena," she continued, "and I am not pleased to hear such lies from her little mouth." She shot a stern hating look at Rena, full of ice and hate, swirling with forgotten ghosts.

Rena timidly looked to her. Her eyes were so tragic Dante thought his heart would break.

"Rena doesn't lie to adults. She knows better." He spoke acidly, ice dripping with every word, not aimed for Rena but to the stupefied teacher.

Ms. Hunkleburg cleared her throat again.

"As I was saying, Mr. Dante," she sounded ticked.

But Dante didn't flinch at the ugly frog-lady's tone. "It's just Dante. Why can't you remember, you old hag?"

Ms. Hunkleburg merely stared, changing from slighty red to a puce color.

"Why, I never! Your daughter is just as wretched as you! I see where she gets the attitude, from her young father who probably was still a child when she was born." Her eyes scraped Dante's frame with an implications of contemptuous admiration. "You are an awful influence! You have Rena thinking she can take over the classroom--"

"Ma'am, err, Ms. Hunkleburg, excuse me for speaking when its not my turn," Rena cut in, lifting her head, drying the tears from her icy bright eyes and moving her blonde hair behind her ear "but I only answer the questions, and do the work, and turn it in, and help other students… I don't take over the classroom; I'm helping it! It's not my fault your son OVER THERE'S stupider than logs… Rather I think it's yours… My Daddy has always taught me that to learn what you wanna learn you haveta help yourself, do the work, and see what goes on. I seen you – you give your son all the credit and grades, like they were presents and you make the rest of us work our booties off! You don't believe in A's… You believe those should be given to smart, perfect children. That's not fair, and I think the principal lady oughta kick you out and make sure ya never teach again for as long as you're alive!" Rena spoke bravely, withdrawing courage via the presence of her father and making sure she didn't just stand there for the retribution the teacher unrightfully had in stored. She glanced to her father, his silvery supernatural eyes reflected great affection for her, her power of words, and her fierceness against an obvously biased teacher.

The teacher did not know how to take it. Her son was scared and hiding behind her at the aggressive unlikelihood of Rena, how she went for meek and kind to big and tough.

Dante was both confused and proud at the same time of his little Rena and her big, big mouth.

How he loved her that day. How he loved her today. How he would always…. Nothing otherwise to differ would ever provide resistance against his fatherly notions for his one and only thirteen-year-old daughter with the blond hair and the icy grey eyes whom was born on October 30th first thing in the morning on perhaps a most peculiar day when it seemed that the sun was rising, when actually it wasn't. (Dante flown in on the biplane Karnival but it took damage when he force-landed it in the parking lot and it exploded. No one was hurt but the people weren't even sure how it got there with out being spotted.)

Swelling and bloated near the amount of bursting, emotion, unquelled love and admiration took a relentless grasp upon him as he soon prodded gingerly a gathered summary of his misson with a meandering tendril of thought, penetrating the wall he had erected to block all sorts of mind manipulation. That particular threat usually came with the ominous felling that seemed to flash in the surroundings of the environment. He had grown used to this type of thing, since he himself was young but old enough to live on his own terms… When he first started his business in Las Vegas, one day before he braced the outside above the doorway arch with the lighted features of a cursive and most appealing name, a massive edifice of fear and terror, of lust and greed, of gluttony and envy, a centuries old tower from the long-begotten past jutted from the lower regions of the earth and spread to the sky at dusk, a most dooming shadow falling upon the ruined city roads and broken homes as the moon rose to its post of duty as night guardian. The Temen-Ni-Gru, summoned by his twin brother Vergil in the gloom of the final rays of the irretrievable daylight that now laid lost in its tomb below the horizon for rest till next dawning, held within its terrible concrete, stone, marble, and granite walls a bone-chilling, blood-curdling, fearsome unnatural power that was indescribable and incredibly terrible that devoured all valor from the veins of brave men. However, as it were placed upon him as a 'kind gesture for mankind' Dante took to the shattered streets and up to the entrance of the Temen-Ni-Gru, rebelling against the gigantic virility of the melancholy of the dead, and tortured souls released from hell and the labyrinth of the tower's ancient chambers.

Profusely Dante shook his head with vigor. Here he was, walking though the Hallway of Forlorn Souls in a fortress unmarred by time's ruthless ire. Oh, what would he write this as? Sailing the same sea twice? Again, he was looking for someone and yet he had helping hands. All similar to the Mallet Experience, a tale of his legendary account retold and told again to his daughter, only he had changed few names. Irony was tenderly eyeing him as a voluptuous plaything. And like his version of a child's fairy tale, this experience of right now, a new chapter in his chronicles he was contemplating of publishing, had subtle changes. No longer was it Trish that was his aid and source of information; no, instead he was rescuing _her_ with his long-time pal and former partner Lucia and his love child with Trish, Rena. His location was not that of the remote and uncharted Mallet Island somewhere in a distant sea; Here he was, setting foot on a piece of so-called Avalon, Lost home of the elves… The main heroes where himself and his partners, but some things just never change.

His target enemy, the one whom was the cause for his misery, he whom wrenched his mother's life and brother's last shreds of sanity asunder from the mortal planes of reality and material, the cause for the demon rebellion that was lead by his father Sparda – The Darkness Mundus. Dante, again and hopefully the last time in this lifetime, would fight the final battle like his father so many years ago and he would win again.

His mind arose a dozen more memories from their graves. He began suddenly to think of his lost wife, whom was somewhere in the Castle of Hopelessness. He was swept into a dream-like state as he thought of the events that recently transpired at their lovely home…. How she was just taken away, like that and then it became a blur… The riddle from the should-be deceased Griffin; Rena's wisdom; his nostalgia for other times; the reappearance of an old friend…. It was a strange day, and he feared it were only to grow worse. Without warning those thoughts were taken away and were suddenly replaced by Trish in his mind, as he recalled details. With a chuckle to himself as he dragged a finger along the velvety wall of the hall he was most positive that he would not meet another woman on this 'self-assigned job'. Back when they first met it was love at first sight, but that sight however was quite dangerous for each other's health. Well, they say love makes philosophers into idiots, and vice versa. Trish was the only woman for him, he was so sure of this. There was nothing that could compare to her. She had waist length dirty blonde tresses that entranced and gave illusion of a phantom delight when wind swept. Her eyes were the very color of the deepness that was the sky that cradled the earth in her loving embrace. The nine months of pregnancy never completely left their mark on her body as she waxed and waned as though she were a moon cycle. Afterwards, just like she was before, she had retained curves that went on for days…

Dante indeed thought that this was unusual. His former girlfriends of years past always remained scarred with having grown round during the interval of nine months. He breathed, because he remained a virgin until his honeymoon and his girlfriends usually cheated on him, having got frisky with another dude. In fact, on the night of seeing one of his girlfriends from college smoking and three months in – who seriously thought he was "the one"—Enzo, the bartender at the oldest bar in town somewhere in Vegas, made a comment on Trish that now had resurrected in Dante's mind. "What is Trish anyway? I swear she ain't human, like you only more." Dante begged to differ from the statement, since it was she that mothered his daughter and he never told Enzo about it. She had everything that makes a human, well, human. A chance of death, memories, independent thinking, the liability to sin, female reproductive system and a way to feed babies, and the most important of all qualities – feelings. She was in fact Eva's clone, and no clone is absolutely perfect. A small thing changed Trish's sides in battle. When she met Dante, she got a whiff of a feeling and that envoked her will.

That feeling was love at first sight.

She was human, perhaps a little more to Dante…. Love tends to empower the strangest of opinions.

Meandering in his contemplation, the end of the hall snorted in his face. On the wall before him was a huge painting of a mermaid with a unicorn horn. She had aqua eyes and her violet tresses journeyed about her. She was painted with a large pallor, holding out a most magnificent milky white opal orb, and her tail glimmered with silver moon scales from her hips and down where her legs would normally be present. Her smile, however, was strained….

Dante walked ever more slowly, until he came face to face with the painting which the paint seemed fresh, bubbling. His handsome features contorted with curiosity and he held out his hand to touch the masterpiece of gigantic proportions. His hand was about to get very, very intimate with the painting when out of no where he heard a voice!

"Hey you!"

Dante was confused within nanoseconds, hand hovering in place.

"Yeah! YOU! I'm talking to YOU!"

Dante turned behind him, yet there was no one demanding he grant them an audience.

"UP HERE!"

Dante glanced up to the painting. The mermaid's face had come alive. As soon as their eyes met, the uni-mer began to wail miserably.

"HEEEEELLLPP MEEEE!" She cried horribly, "I have been here for much too long…. Please, help me…. I feel myself languishing." Her voice sounded like water bubbling up from a crystal brook because somebody, who had been tied up but not gagged, was vainly attempting to communicate with the outside world.

"How do I…?"

"Lean forward," she whispered too low enough so that Dante would not catch it, stricken with a malicious shadow over her face.

"What? Say that again," Dante leaned forward anyway, since in Dante's "old age" he was hard of hearing at least for the moment.

Cackling and eye glittering, the uni-mer pale hands with tapered finger nails and large rings leaped forward, draped in seaweed and spilling gallons of water, and snatched Dante by the shoulders, dragging him into the picture frame. The pounding force of the ocean beat against him on the otherside and he was rapidly losing oxygen, swirling and spinning uncontrollably through a sea typhoon. The water became mingled with a great magnitude of coloring, and it transformed into a portal. Dante opened his eyes to espy the uni-mer and gave an obscene hand gesture before he was flung out at the other end.

Water sloshing on the tile flooring, Dante lunged and landed on his hands and knees gasping for air. The fading cackles of the uni-mer echoed throughout the new sector. However, Dante could not swallow down the horrible taste in his mouth. He forced himself to cough and nothing came up, but still he felt a large lump in his throat that was sure was not there this morning. He stuck his finger down his throat to get it out but it was futile. He soon became desperate. Worried sick for his health, Dante did something he actually thought was not possible, even for his genre. He put his hands together like in a Heimlech Maneuver but since this was not a matter of choking, he took this make-shift battering ram and punched it with a good lot of his strength fiercely into his own gut.

Vomit surged up angrily from his belly and forced the object out of his throat, all over the floor into the water and seafoamy mess. The contents of his stomach (a lovely pancake breakfast, scrambled eggs, toast, and a cup of Java) spilled and spread out around his knees, bending to scientific law, along with a long strand of seaweed with something entangled in its slimed caress. Coughing to clear himself of the phlegm and the pain, Dante soon resolved into picking up the seaweed covered in yellowish-orange guck. He arranged his knees into a stool-like position, his thighs as the cushions, and unfolded the seaweed in his palm.

"Damn!" he exclaimed hoarsely, his eyes growing wide in disbelief.

Dante was engulfed in stupefaction when he found out that the lump in his throat had not only been a strand of ocean vegetation, but the shock was what lay inside the seaweed: a small but truly stunning ruby stone.

"Well… now isn't that special," He hocked up a loogie and spat it aside. "Wow, this is SO what I need right now!" He snorted, clasping the jewel in his hand, putting his hand to his knee, and helping himself up from the disaster around his boots. Shakily, he regained footing and stood up straight, wincing at the discovery of more light than the previous hallways and rooms. He tossed the stone carelessly up and down in his hand unconscienceously as he glanced about his surroundings.

He cleared his throat, tilting his head back to the empty background behind him. "Alrighty. Let's see what it's all about," He strode on, placing the stone in his pocket as he whistled down the hall, his mind focused.

**RENA WASN'T HAVING **a hard time getting around on her own. Sure, it was a confusing turn here or a little sticky there, but other than those small moments when her IQ seemed to drop randomly, she was okay. She enjoyed her adventure on her own, but don't be hasty to think she had forgotten all about her mother, Trish and father Dante.

The young huntress in training went about the castle, going through door to door, as so seemed to be her plan when the ideal of "Cohesive Action" kerplunked in the toilet and went down to the sewers. Every new room withheld an energy field Rena was eager to push herself into. Every where a surprise literally lurked in the corners elusively, and Rena would soon find out as soon as she pushed the double doors into the domed and large windowed ancient library. Her eyes lit up with hunger and her mouth watered for the words of knowledge that hummed from the pages of the dusty tomes.

She took liberty and walked betwixt aisles of shelves, shelves, and more shelves. Everything she had ever known, or wanted to, sung hymns to her desires for the books. She gently pulled off her glove from her left hand, running her middle and forefinger on the musty spines of the books, uncovering their titles. "_Philosophy and Folklore of Mesopotamia" "Torture Laws of England" "Premature Burial" "Alchemic Practices" "Mummification and earlier medical science" "Grecian crimes and punishments"_ and finally, _"Man-eating trees of the world" _They screamed promises to her, yet she lingered on. These were the books her library forbid, despite the knowledge they exalted and however rare and valuable they were. The sunlight shining from the high and large windows proved that Rena had stirred the slumbering dust particles, this room being the Crypt of Lost Texts. She wandered on, entranced by her daydreams of returning somehow to this chamber of promises later after having rescued her mother. She had to show this to her father, no matter how long it took to find where he was right now.

In passing a shelf of mythology, a book caught her eye specifically just before she passed it by. She yanked her self a few backward steps and placed her self in front of what she had found via the corner of her eye. She held her glove in her bent elbow and took the book into her hand from the shelf that was adjacent to her shoulders. The cover gleamed as a beam of sun accented the glittering gold print to read _"Bestiary Of The Ages." _She opened the book and propped the covers on her forearms, an explosion of dust swarming up and blowing scornfully in Rena's face. She breathed deeply the scent in, not bothered in the slightest by the once-passive grime's onslaught. The pages were ivory-yellow as though with tea stains, decaying in spots, some of its sections being devoured by mold. Rena felt a sweep of compassion for this glorious publication. Her eyes were agleam with unfalling tears and her mouth with spread slight with a smile of yearning, as she paged the treatise gently, delicately turning the antiquated pages with a loving shown only to objects of sentimentality she endeared.

The book told of things she would never forget, things she would remember and recall for her parents in times of needs when a particular species of dark creature reared its head in existence. _"Bestiary Of The Ages" _was chock full of information of demons, mythic beasts, and dangerous ethereal beings from many cultures, countries, and periods. Immensely descriptive and well written the book was a piece that would forever stand out against modern day narratives and expository books that told with limitation of fantastical and phantasmal creatures.

Rena made an oath to take the precious tome – for it had obscure facts and vast amounts of it— with her for the remainder of the journey, whenever she took to getting back to it… As of now, she stood stationary in the aisle, skimming the book simply because she was at a freedom to.

**HE STEPPED IN,** welcomed by the swooning darkness. This room seemed like all that had come before it…There was nothing utterly different first sight or not in compliance to Dante's senses that he had noticed, but indeed there was a THING in the room. Dante was not troubled by the presence, but rather provoked to walk further, closer. With a hissing step from his boot, the walls flickered into life. Candles began lighting themselves; a thermal glow radiated throughout the room and red lights dyed the high ceiling. Gold ornaments sparkled from the indents in the walls as makeshift shelves. White and red orbs of light waltzed in the shadows like fairy folk in the act of merry-making on Summer Solstice. A cool, calming mist scuttled from the nothingness and the carpet became lost. It was a golden and scarlet assembly in the Chamber of Mystics, and Dante had trespassed unknowingly.

By now there was enough glowing that Dante's path had been illuminated. Clearly, he could see that this was like a prayer room, with altars, candles, and offerings of precious metals. Moldy books were helter-skelter across the floors, in stacks, and beside self-lit candles on the shelves inside the walls. Incense remnants still burned in the air, a stuffy, somewhat balmy feel. Dried herbs and flowers hung in bouquets on silver chords from the ceilings, draped by the bronze statue that stood on the altar, hands raised in a praising form, wings spread eagle. Purple scarves were nailed to the walls with bloodied shivs, etched with stitchwork hymns and prayers in Latin, Cuneiform, and some other languages, tasseled with silky golden thread on the ends that hung close to the floor.

Dante took a step or two, then smirked.

"Monks…. What_ will_ they worship next?" He said himself. Chuckling softly and in intervals, Dante walked towards the altar for closer examination.

"**CENTAURS, BLOOD GOYLES**, Dopplegangers, unicorns, gnomes, elves, Langsuirs, dhampirs…. EVERYTHING!" Gushed Rena aloud, flipping the pages sections at a time. "Is there nothing this book doesn't talk about!" In her literary orgasm, she hugged the book out of sheer impulsiveness. "Oooo-hhh this is so fantastic!"

A shadow dashed from the shelf behind her to the next one. It knocked over a stack of books, awakening Rena from her rambling trance. She looked up from her embracement of the book, slighted paled and startled by a strange odor, and looked around until she spotted the stack of books that now lay upon the icy onyx flooring. Looking left and right twice more, she placed her _"Bestiary Of The Ages" _under her armpit on the inside of her jacket and knelt to retrieve the books of her fancy.

A good number of titles were not of her interest. Things like _"The Anatomy of the Flea" _and "_How Butter Works" _were curious, but nothing she had fantasies of herself reading in her favorite sunlit spot. After restacking most of the books in a place so that no one would trip on the innocent again, she eventually found something that was, no matter if put in various ways, was NOT insipid.

"_An Encyclopedia and timeline of demon matrimony, offspring, and romances that never turn out the way anybody would and ever could plan, unless someone tried and failed miserably, which can be pitied despite your side of the fence in the war of mankind versus demonkind, whether you have a heart, three and half-ish, or one that has a brain along with a stomach inside it_"

Rena was instantly drawn to it, dragged in like clumps of kitty litter from a cat's hiney on the clean white carpet.

**DANTE DID NOT** like exactly what he saw. Not at all, not at all. The room was morbid, accursed with shed blood and sacrifice, but he could not bear when he had found out the origin of the blood that created the orbs and covered the walls, the nails; it was from a three-month-old baby. There, beneath the Praising Angel, the cadaver lay lifelessly so, festering with rotten flesh and smelling of the bowels of the Underworld. It was crumpled up, skin piecing off, wounds crusty with dried puss, and charred black from fire. The face was smashed in, the arms broken and shattered useless, and naval split. Worst of all for Dante's heart, the dead baby was a little girl.

A wave of sick rippled up inside him. The sight of the mutilated baby got him to thinking about his daughter. Dolefully, a silent tear decided to roll down Dante's cheek as he stood there, gazing down at the corpse clothed in a burlap sack. Days of the past flew in his mind. Diaper changes, warm milk, late nights without sleep, lullabies and baby powder all came to him unbidden, as he mourned for the demise of dewy youth that never knew neither a word nor a pleasure in its last moments. Only pain.

"Awwww, that is so precious! It's so sweet I think I have a toothache…. The Dark Knight Dante – caring? Wow, HARDLY did that for me. Always gone, away at work, she told me. Trying to escape the shackles of fatherhood had obvious facts, but there I was, naiive enough to force myself to believe that he did everything he did, for me. At least, that's what mother always told me." A female's voice thundered from behind him, the shadow of its possessor blocking the light of the open door and falling on Dante. He caught a glimpse of the silhouette from the corner of his eye.

Dante jerked in reaction, wheeling around, and pulled out Ebony and Ivory, aiming at the door now vacated. The mist dispersed; something dashed to the other side of the room. Dante locked on and turned about. His pistols flew up from his sides, guns before him like double heads, making him become a creature of Cerberus.

"Daddy Dante was always gone. Always gone to bloody bathing. Needed breaks and solitary confinement away from his beloved offspring that DROVE HIM UP THE WALL!" The voice resounded with merciless hate, centered from nothingness.

Dante reminded adamantine with his pose, intensely speaking up against the darkness. "Maybe that was true long ago, as much as I hate to admit it…. But, you got to keep on keeping on!" He cocked his guns. Glowing eyes appeared paces away; zig and zagging left and right on a malleable shadow. "Besides, we're all grown up now and Rena doesn't have to know." He pulled the triggers and let the bullets fly.

"What do you mean I don't have to know? I already do!" Rena's true voice cried behind him, crackly from emotions and marred with sniffles. He tossed a glance over his shoulder, astounded to see that she was not there, and was literally yanked away from the moment.

A hand from the shadow snatched him by the neck, snapping his attention to the battle. He winced at the pain as her hands gave off a hellish heat and he tried to writhe free, held three feet above the ground. It was not anyone he knew, but when she spoke, he certainly would never forget her.

She looked in her young twenties and her face was so much like Trish's. Hair color. Cheekbones. Nose. Hairline. Her lips were painted with lip rogue the color of onyx stone, shiny in the fiendish light and poutily puckered. A beauty mark growled from beside the left nostril and above the corner of the mouth, as though demanding its own set of an eyeful attention. Her hair was long to her waist, wild and almost spiky at some places and just as sinister as she was, outlining her curvy hourglass form. A demon fang earring dangled from her left ear lobe, dripping with saliva-like venom from its curvaceous tip, trickling down her exposed neck. She wore a black sleeveless tank top, showing much cleavage from her large cup size with the astrological symbol for Scorpio, a strike-ready scorpion, painted on the right breast in maroon. A green marble cuneiform with streams of mingled ebony hung on a leather chord and encircled her neck with a lock of fox fur intertwined. She had a replica of Alastor on her back and a pair of pistols that were the twin sisters of Ebony and Ivory flawlessly. Her eyes were hard and fierce, enraged and bloodthirsty; the color of the tundra with searing edges of glimpses inside an interior fernace.

"Daddy!" she hissed, her voice warped and coming out synthesized. Her mouth was lined with yellowed vampire fangs and her breath smelled foul of a slaughterhouse. Her pupils dilated, then turned into fiery, snake-like slits. Her lengthy barbed tongue wriggled out from her disgusting rancid mouth, pink as a scalding burn, and licked Dante from his ear to the gradual connection of his neck to his torso, drawing soft circles and sliding up and down even going so far to caress his earlobe mischievously to explore his pleasure generators; just to see what kind of simpering fool he would become to his fleshly carnality.

The demon slayer was disgusted with both the lady and himself; he was liking it. He kicked her as viciously as he could for it was really all he could do for now since he was saving his Devil Trigger, but to no avail. No matter where his boot met it was of no use. He scarcely breathed. He felt lightheaded. His weapons had been shook from him, and now lay scattered across the floor, away from his reach.

**RENA WAS IN **her own little world right about now. She practically cried for sheer joy! This was her paradise, and she felt glued to that one spot, deeply involved in the affairs of a demon who fell in love with his master and went far enough to slaughter his own wife and fourteen children to be with the male general he loved.

There was a curtly cough close by.

Startled, Rena soberly and slowly closed her book, shoved it in interior pocket along with _Bestiary Of the Ages_ and her pearly holy water vials, and decided to be a stealth sneak as long as she was not spotted.

The rustle of a turning page.

Was she alone?

She crouched as she walked, keeping low to the ground as possible without impeding progress. She skirted the edges of the bookcases, stirring not so much as one particle of dust. Her foot falls were unheard on the hard stone and she was proud of herself for that one moment. Her heart pounded against its cage painfully, thumping into her throat pleading escape but she swallowed it back down to damnation. She trained her lungs not to hold themselves as she proceeded towards the source of the noise. If she had not learned long ago that holding your breath is like foreshadowing to being found out by enemies, she would let her breath go in a gasp if something sudden flew up in face and give away her position. She had read that in a book about ninja stealth and had never forgotten the value of clandestine action, camouflage, diversion, and noise concealment.

Another turned page scuffled the peace. A creak, like movement in a chair, pricked the demonette huntress's daughter's ears, and she registered that her target sneak point was besieged by an aware presence. Originally, she thought perhaps a loose drafty breeze caught the pages of an open book and that the cough was just a harmless mirage, but all her former assumptions were on the way of being proven false.

Reaching the end of the aisle that lead to the main body of the library, she crouched and pressed her back against the surface flat. She slowly slide her hand down her thigh, slowly gaining towards her silvery white pistol Artemis on her left holster. Placing her fingers on the trigger gingerly together on her .45, she peeked around the corner enough just to see what she about to get herself into.

**DANTE WAS LOSING** the battle. His mind was furious with the thoughts that Rena now felt betrayed; that somehow she knew that he was immature when she was first born. That was the only thing he feared: His daughter finding out the truth and turning against him. Did she really find out?

He was allowed no time to think.

"Naughty…" The lady shook her head and tsked, shaking her finger at him with her free hand. "You must pay the price." Her tsking finger touched Dante's chin, dragging down his silky fleshy neck slowly, a tender growl rumbling and killing to be uttered by Dante, transiting into a palm from a finger once it touched his chest, and wandered to his solar plexus. Her eyelashes fell over her glowing, snow-grey blue eyes lazily, like a seductive snake making promises to its prey, and her lips parted as she brought them to kiss Dante's lips.

Dante's lightheadedness increased, he felt his energy surrendering, the battle was no longer his…. He closed his eyes as he felt on the verge of sleep, never handing himself over to the forced pleasurement and his heart remaining for Trish.

Her tongue went down his throat, making it harder breathe, scraping the tender tissues and making them sore.

Her hand that lay on his chest now clawed and dug her sharpened fingers in through his vest. Blood spots welled up and flowed inside his clothing. The woman kissed Dante harder, her sharp teeth soon causing his mouth to bleed and the blood staining the clean flesh of his neck. Dante was fighting back truthfully, but he felt she had power he didn't.

Think of Trish, think of Trish, THINK OF TRISH! He angrily thought to himself. Wait, don't just think of Trish think of a way to knock her off!

It is no use, another thought invaded. You cannot win. You like this too much. Your body wants me. It was the woman's thoughts!

I am married! He replied. This isn't right.

Fuck your wife. Take me now.

FUCK YOU!

He clamped his jaws hard on her tongue and warm, salty blood flooded into his mouth. He applied more force and felt it almost split, but as the woman shrieked in pain her palm that clawed his chest had infused her powers and a magik force pushed him through the doorway, emanating a great light afterwards. She was thrashing about, clenching her mouth with her hands and trying to quail to the gush of blood that drenched her breasts and the floor.

The blow burned his entrails, but her fury of her injury had flung him out into the hallway and crashing into the wall, cracking it largely and landing limp on an end table with a vase of dehydrated flowers, slouched against the wall with his flesh sizzling and steam arising.

**SHE JUMPED UP **from her passive position, lunging from the corner with an untrained expertise and relaying her weigh to fold one knee back and advance another forward in a bended knee stance and ignoring the change in temperature. She aimed her gun at the unsuspecting reader behind a desk and in a dark green armchair, aiming with her sightfinder the way her favorite genetically enhanced super solider clone of legend would from her favorite stealth franchise that began in 1986 on the Super Nintendo from Konami.

"Freeze!" she cried, not dropping her aim.

The person whose identity was concealed behind the book turned another page.

"I said freeze!"

The person stopped and slowly pulled the book away from their face. Behind the book was a silvery haired woman with entrancing crimson eyes and pointed ears, peering straight into Rena's eyes. Rena was reminded greatly of the stain glass window she broke her free-fall with earlier and her John Woo stand off was postponed as she admired the beautiful creature before her. The elf woman smiled gently. Her fingers folded onto her lap, on top of her book.

"You will not shoot. You are of too soft of heart, both like and unlike your father and his father before him."

Her voice was honeydew and silk, rainy mist and shade, syrupy and oily, sweet and smooth. Rena trusted her completely.

The demonslayer-to-be stood up erect from her stance and with a sweeping spiral trick with her finger, she holstered the gun coolly, clasped metal relaxing with the release of creaking. The elfin woman stood up too after placing her book on the desk, a cream colored gown billowing to the floor, her hair a moonlit cascade that streamed down her shoulders.

"You are destined for greatness, small one."

"Who… are you?" asked Rena, feeling pleasantly drowsy.

Her eyes gazed as though scanning.

"Ahh, you speak the language…. You have no true need to know my name, small one. All things will be known in due time, when the stars believe your soul has matured and your heart is crystal."

It did not phase Rena that the elf said she had spoken another language she was not fluent in; Rena's ears perked her into awareness; a gigantic noise thudded the mystical aura into a moment of reality; a splintering of wood and a thrash of stone breaking. She jerked her head in the direction of the door, listening intently for several moments….

"When will I -" She started to ask, but when she turned back around the seat was vacated. At first, she thought she was having hallucinations but she was anchored with an iron belief when she saw the very same book of poetry on the desk, right where she had left it. Rena knew that that was the first time she had ever encountered a ghost. But it was not her last.

Before heading out the door to investigate the noise, Rena gran theft auto-ed the book and ran out into the hall.

**IN PAIN AND **slightly concussed, Dante coughed up a petty amount of blood on the back of his hand. He tried to pick himself up, eyes blurred with confusion and tears, but he was slammed back against the wall, his skull bobbing and banging against the hard surface.

The older Rena grinned at his agony, a high-heeled coal black boot cutting into his kneecap as both hands held an Alastor the Thunder Sword in their midst. Her hair predaciously hung down in front of her shoulders as she loomed over him in his vulnerability, her locks twitching as though greedily hoping to strangle all the life force out of him. Scarlet blood spurted from his wound and oozed all over the floor.

Her witchy laugh was just as warped as her regular voice, sounding near to Trish but far from it. "Dante…. I want more of your tasty blood…. However, I will just have to take it! Her body writhed upwards toward the heavens, receiving convulsions of electrical currents surging through her blood stream from the handles and hilts of her enchanted blades, weaving like ivy vines in neon indigo displays. She grunted with the power, feeling the forces devour her frailty and consume her weakness. Her aura radiated a purple color, and her hair frizzed up, as she groaned with the electricity overtaking her senses, feverishly encompassing her body.

"I feel it….! I feel it…!" She screamed in the climax of her thunderstorm. "The true power of…. Alastor!" She looked down at Dante, eyes bright with the zenith of the electrical storm of resistance, fanged wry face agleam with saliva and foam. "It's mine! The power….!" A thunderclap roared and a bolt of lightning struck her from the ceiling. Her body shook with the might and fury of the storm, and she screamed in pleasure and pain. "Mine!" she cried.

After the attempt to rebel by Alastor not willing to be handed over to a fiend, the demonette huntress became rabid with the power. Her eyes widened with blood lust, her fangs glistened with hunger, and her swords that were held erect from her sides gave one last convulsion of energy. She raised both her blades in sacrificial stance above her head, her eyes seeming to sink deeper into her pale skull, giving the appearance of a necromancer's zombie.

Dante was faint from his energy lost, too weak to defend himself. His lips formed silent diction and he closed his eyes, turning his head away.

There…..was the sound of shattered glass.

A pause.

"AGGHHHHHHHHHHERREAAAA!"

The woman shrilled in utter anguish, her skin bubbling up with lacerations and exploding pouches of flesh. She clenched her face after her blades clanged to the floor.

Dante opened his eyes. He watched in bewilderment to see Rena, still in position of having smashed a bottle of holy water into the back of the fiend's head. The demon pushed Rena aside at went berserk with the suffering, tearing open a portal with her other claw and fleeing.

"No touchy on the daddy!" she declared, shaking the glass out of her palm, small tricklets of blood streaming from the penetrated cloth of her gloves, careful not to reveal her obscene hand gesture.

The demon woman disappeared, moaning and crying with agony into the portal.

Dante breathed heavily. His skin tingled with the sensations of mending flesh as all of his wounds began to stitch themselves up.

"So…." Rena began, tugging on his sleeves and helping him up. "New girlfriend?"

Dante was benumbed on his reaction. She didn't know how horrible of a joke it was, considering how close that demonette was to raping him. He normally would have joshingly said yes, but to him that was a truly trauma-inducing event.

"No, Rena, no, Rena dear. That…. that bitch may have bore resemblance to your mother, may have had her face, but she didn't have your mother's fire."

"Dad, maybe this should be a time to tell you, since you know we might die en' stuff, but I love you." Rena helped him to his feet, letting him gain momentum against the wall.

"I love you, Rena….."

Why argue? She had a point.

"You were brave," he said.

"Yeah, yeah, but I don't fele good about it; that's the second thing I've maimed today. I don't think my stomach can take it much longer…."

------------

TA DA! I will leave you to ponder on these events but until I get a new installment enrich me with your reviews! I love to hear from you people and it joys me to see how eager you are for more. Finally, I have fan arts! But they were both from my very close friend and her boyfriend, so they don't count. :)

Thank you for being so incredibly patient while waiting for part two. I love you all!

Next chapter's on its way!

Your friend and truly yours,

FalchionSeal


	7. The End of Things

REAL WORLD: AUGUST 2012

The author experiences flashes of sharp pain behind her eyeballs. Feeling ill, she catches herself on the edge of her desk, inches from collapsing on the floor.

She then proceeds to hold herself in the fetal position, rendered useless from the terror she finished reading.

The writing of her once-considered-a-personal-masterpiece fan fiction was horrific - everything about it made her want to stick a fork in her eye; it would be less painful.

Reading over the "ancient" writing of her fic that was originally posted in 2004 and hadn't been updated since 2005, the author made various decisions about the work.

One, her feelings and the story behind the fic would probably be told.

Two, a discussion of the qualities of the fic that made it qualify for "badfic," a genre of fan fiction that is usually intentionally bad; the ones that aren't intentionally bad show the author as an amateur.

And three - the decision that has yet to be revealed.

* * *

The story behind the fic goes like this:

Around when the author was 13 or 14, she discovered the joys of _Devil May Cry._ It was her older brother's fault that she got a hold of the mature-rated game. Not because he did not supervise his PS2, but because the game was so awesome he just had to show her what exactly about the game made it so.

The author was enrolled in middle school at the time, and during the last two days of the 6th grade, she began writing in a purple spiral 0.17 cent notebook her first ever DMC fan fic, born from her obsession with the story line and characters.

Not a veteran of the fan fiction world, the author was unaware of terms such as "formatting" and "Mary Sue," and went about creating a character close to her age in real life, made her the child of canon characters, and gave her similar likes and dislikes.

Thus, Rena was created.

She is the 13-year-old daughter of Dante and Trish, given twin pistols, a sword, and a red coat by her parents - despite not having any sort of training, and all that mess. Apparently they didn't really explain her origins to her until her thirteenth birthday; bad parenting on them. Really, if you have a child of inhuman blood you should probably explain that stuff to them sooner than later, right?

Well, some other things are wrong about the fan fiction and poor Rena's birth.

Things that, while okay when it all began, are extremely painful to look at now.

* * *

The author admits, as many other fan fic writers do at some point or another, that Rena and all her various fan-created brothers and sisters across other fandoms are just bad OCs. Rena is a bad OC – an original character where she very much doesn't belong.

All authors create bad OCs for their favorite series and movies and games at some point. It is the natural way of being a fan and wanting to be involved in the meta of the canon in some way, and it is a natural way of growing as writer.

As far as Rena goes, she wasn't a hundred-percent self-insert/wish-fulfillment - the author really does enjoy stories of Dante being a dad, as that sort of dynamic with his character can play out in an interesting manner. Rena was primarily created to fill the author's need for that kind of fictional interaction.

The author really hoped that she created a daughter worthy of Dante's affection and legacy, aiming for tomboyish and rational over the typical, girly snotty teenagers other writers stuck him with.

Did she meet the goal for Rena? Did Rena come off as a snotty know-it-all brat or as something much worse? Mary Sue, yes, and that is a flavor of something very much worse.

Rena, however, is not a Mary Sue Poppins; she is not practically perfect in every way. She's lazy, sloppy, impatient, annoying, lacks social aptitude, and isn't really well-liked among kids her age…

She is vulnerable to enemies - any kind, really - because she lacks the training to be in any battle situation, be it physical or verbal. She won all her battles so far through luck alone and bad writing, as well as a possession plot-device that hadn't been explained yet.

She is young, stubborn, and can be brash at times. She thinks she's got all the smarts needed to best the demons, but really she's bait for raging appetites. Really, she's more of a snack than a threat. Without her father, she's nothing.

And that's the ultima of the author's discovery - without her father Dante, Rena is nothing.

Rena does not stand alone as a strong character.

She relies heavily on her father, everything from the way she looks and acts to how she would eventually fight, if she ever got that far. Her identification pends solely on the reader's identification of Dante's traits and characteristics.

She isn't a special snow flake, thank god, but she isn't a bland muffin either.

She was a 13-year-old girl who wanted to be a hero because of her daddy, but really she was nothing special - she's nothing the readers of the story truly cared about.

* * *

More story behind the fic: Rena's first name actually comes from the character of the same name featured in_ .hack/Legend of the Twilight_.

The author had read the first manga during the initial planning of Rena the Daughter of Dante.

* * *

The author would like to discuss some philosophy now, which starts with her lack of research during the story's creation.

For one, as all DMC fans should know and at the time of writing the author didn't really understand the psychological implications of it all, Trish is a vaguely explained replica of Dante's mother, Eva.

DMC1 is very vague about the relationship of Dante and Trish - she comes to him inquiring of his identity, hurls a sword and a motorcycle at him, takes off her glasses and reveals that she looks like his mom. Then the scene changes to Mallet Island, she disappears. Throughout the game, she's stalking him and knows how powerful he is, and at a melodramatic moment in the underworld, betrays him.

She fails, of course.

Nightmare, the creature that is supposedly her ally, gets its tail utterly whipped and shoots a laser at the ceiling that brings the pointy things down. Dante, being the good guy, pushes her out of the way.

"Dante... why did you save my life?"

"Because you look like my mother..." He answers, back turned.

Trish is seriously confused and hasn't gotten off the floor yet, thus an proper time to use a pun and say she was "floored."

"Now get out of my sight," Dante says. "The next time we meet, it won't be like this..."

And slowly, he walks away as the music plays.

Trish is moved by him saving her life despite her betrayal and insults. She tries going after him. "Dante!"

Dante stops suddenly. "Don't you come any closer, you devil!" He's spitting his words, pointing Ebony at her with emotional ferocity. "You may look like my mother but you're nowhere close to her. You have no soul."

Trish is speechless.

"You have the face but you'll never have her fire!" Dante, fet up with it all, shoves his gun down and turns around sharply.

And there's the dramatic walking away, the dramatic silence, dramatic everything. It's all set to the very pretty piano version of the strangest pick for an ending song, "Seeds of Love."

Really, it's all very serious in the context of the game.

Trish stands there motionless, an unreadable expression on her face as the jumbles of emotions play upon her destiny - the Dark Lord Mundus reminds her at this time that she has failed, and that she knows what happens next.

* * *

The Big Baddie Confrontation scene happens.

After roaming the pulsating being that is the transmorgrified building of Underworld Presence, Dante enters what appears to be a cathedral: pure, heavenly light pouring in through unknown light sources; pristine marble, and the sound track has decided to play some organ music.

The statue of Mundus speaks.

The dialogue eventually indicates Trish hung up like a femme Jesus, essentially crucified above Dante's head for her failure.

* * *

Symbolic crucifixion and what have you, and somehow Trish gets down from there. It must've been another decoy or something, if that's why she easily dropped down to push Dante out of the way of Mundus' barbs of light.

As it turns out, she has repaid the favor. So it goes.

She sacrifices herself for Dante's life, just as Eva did.

* * *

Dante holds her dead body in his arms, shouting the infamous line, "I was to fill your dark soul with liiiiiight!"

He sheds sparkling tears.

He then honors her death by placing the Perfect Amulet on her chest, marking her grave with the Sparda sword.

* * *

The question begs: is he honoring Trish because of Trish, or is he honoring his fallen parents because of her likeness, a common factor with their deaths, and their mementos?

Here, should you choose to, you may begin digging into all sorts of Existentialism arguments that the author would love to engage you in, if you choose to contact her for a discussion.

* * *

The infamous line and the scene in its entirety have confounded fans since its release. (Hell, their whole relationship standing is confounding.)

Fans wonder what Dante meant by "filling your dark soul with light." Did he mean to love her? Did he mean to have her love him? Did he mean to teach her about being human?

All of this and more have given sturdy grounds for Dante/Trish shippers.

* * *

Other scenes close to the end of the game have given supporting evidence for the ship:

-When Trish seemingly returns from the dead to lend him her powers (before she appears, Dante hears his mother's voice telling him he'll be okay, and how Trish returns from the dead is never explained)

-Their running embrace, Trish crying, and Dante comforting her by telling her she's human because "tears are a gift only humans have." (Wait – is she a demon and so her crying is special? Or is she a human clone and her tears are proof of that?)

-The flight of the Red Carnival out the exploding Mallet Island, Trish marveling over the blue sky, and Dante saying that it will always be over our heads, no matter what (this entire sequence is set to the BGM named "Blue Orgasm" - make of that what you will)

-Dante's renamed the store the "Devil Never Cry" because of what he said to her, they receive a call that contains the password, and it seems that they are hunting partners living together (Trish also uses the Sparda in the end "fight" credits).

* * *

In the animated series, which Kobayashi has stated is canon and takes place sometime after the first game and before the fourth, Trish returns to the Devil May Cry (Dante might have renamed it after their separation) to further pester Dante and involve him in the supernatural happenings once again.

Their interactions and Dante's invitation for her to come back all point that there was something else going on between them, which _Anime Insider _hinted at (Volume 53, February 2008) when they did a special about the dubbed release.

Her separation from Dante to pursue her own goals is seen as some sort of break up, one that Dante may not have ever gotten over.

* * *

They sort-of make up at the episode's conclusion (episode 4), but really it's Trish sticking him with the bill for her expensive shopping spree.

Dante doesn't really say much about it, maybe because he's not really given a chance to react.

* * *

The author believes the ending theme for the anime, "I'll Be Your Home" may be the perfect Dante/Trish anthem - they're each other's homes, someone they can always come back to no matter what. The ending credits are also set to Dante drinking Jack Daniel's at the Devil May Cry all alone.

The author decided to paste the entirety of the lyrics because people won't look up the song on their own and have given her some talk about just putting it all here in the first place.

_Don't look back _

_Don't regret _

_Time's falling out of these hands _

_I'll let you leave me _

_Go on, _

_You know Home is always inside your soul _

_All the light to bless your way _

_Don't be afraid _

_And I'll be your home _

_In this time _

_In this place _

_This moment is all we have _

_And tomorrow we never know _

_Every precious time _

_Let it go _

_Somewhere away _

_You will learn, and you'll love, _

_Forgive the past and you can move on _

_All the distance _

_You've come to a place _

_Then you see that your home is away _

_Now the sun is rising _

_Lighting up your sky again brightly _

_Every precious time _

_Let it go _

_Somewhere away _

_You will learn, And you'll love, _

_forgive the past _

_Go on, _

_You know Home is always inside your soul _

_Where ever you go _

_Whatever you see _

_I'll be the place _

_And I'll be your home_

* * *

_"Where you go, whatever you see, I'll be the place, and I'll be your home."_

Those lines are very telling of Dante's situation.

* * *

Here's the "Seeds of Love" to round off the lyric session.

_In the field so green and so free, seeds gaze up _

_The clouds keep them from the light _

_And the sky cries white tears of snow _

_But still, the fragile seeds wait long for the sun to shine _

_Dark winter away, come spring _

_My young seeds once again will look up to the sky _

_And I know they will grow strong _

_My young seeds once again will look up to the sky _

_And I know they will grow strong_

* * *

Fans are at odds with each other.

Disagreements about what is canon muddle the facts.

Should we consider the anime, novels, manga, Dream wave comics, and all the video games to be canon? Do the fans fashion their own canon time lines from a cherry-picking of the sources - a mixture of the anime and games, and maybe the first Tokyopop novel?

The author has her own theories, and for now isn't going to reveal her own version of canon directly.

You might be able to tell from this ending chapter.

* * *

The most recent games to feature Dante and Trish in the same place are the canonical _Devil May Cry 4_, and the non-canon _Marvel vs. Capcom 3: Worlds Collide._

MvC3 features a _Devil May Cry 3: Dante's Awakening_-era Dante. It shows him using only the weapons that he used in the prequel, sporting his coat and design from that era as well.

Trish is also a playable character in MvC3. She's featured using her electricity-based abilities and a good mixture of Sparda-sword ass-kicking. Considering the time-line of the characters, Dante did not meet Trish on-screen during DMC3, and so it can be assumed that they don't know each other then like they do in DMC1.

Because of the set-up in DMC1, assume that Trish crashing through the shop and impaling Dante with a sword was their first meeting.

Contrast MVC3's strangeness with the familiarity of Devil May Cry 4.

The fourth installment shows Trish as if she's visiting intimately or living with Dante again.

Their relationship is comfortable enough she can eat a slice of Dante's pizza and steal the Sparda sword without a word from her and without Dante complaining.

* * *

The author won't spoil too many things here because fewer people played the fourth game because of its inclusion of a new character, but their interactions and the later-on reunion before the Big Baddie Confrontation imply that they're rather... close.

It's entirely possible that Dante was jealous about Trish dressing as she did for the mission, but the author can't elaborate much on that here. Consider an e-mail or personal message for discussion.

* * *

Trish, in the non-canonical setting of _Viewtiful Joe_, replaces Silvia just as Dante replaces Joe in the cut scenes and game play.

Joe and Silvia are dating. They're boyfriend/girlfriend, and it can be argued that Joe is a terrible boyfriend for ignoring her during the movie. However, Silvia gets captured by the Big Baddie and Joe suits up to rescue her.

So what does this all make for Dante and Trish, since Dante goes to rescue Trish just the same? Before her capture, she tries making out with Dante in the movie theatre - that's what Silvia did, and all the developers did was change the character models and dialogue, but none of the actions are changed.

Trish tries making out with Dante.

What do you make of that?

* * *

The author is positive that pretty much every DMC fan is aware that the series is loosely based off the Inferno by the poet Dante Alighieri.

Dante of DMC is named after the very same guy who wrote _Inferno_, the guy who travels through the levels of Hell.

Alighieri was in love with the true life Beatrice, and the fictional version of her was a guide through Paradiso. He considered her to be the personification of Beatific Love.

Trish is a short cut for the name Beatrice.

Dante and Beatrice is a literary couple with historical roots.

Dante and Trish reflect this.

* * *

Dante/Trish can be a ship that sails itself, but this is where it gets messy philosophically and psychologically speaking.

The author promises this all has a point to it.

* * *

For one, what is Trish, exactly?

The only details we have through the game's plot progression: she is a clone of Dante's mother and a construct of Mundus.

So the questions go further – as a construct of Mundus, is Trish a demon?

Is she human because she is a clone of a human? Or is she only made into the likeness of Eva, not really retaining any of the characteristics of the original?

The game never out-rights says what she is; wiki pages usually make the assumption that she's a demon.

She has electricity-based powers, but is there anything else to her?

And more questions: does she care about Dante in the same way Eva did? Does she care as a mother or as a romantic interest?

The Devil May Cry Wiki merely calls her "a mysterious woman" in her main page and doesn't say whether she's human or not. Her roles, purpose, and character origins make it very hard to find an absolute answer.

* * *

The author of this fanfic faced angry reviewers arguing that the story's stance on Trish's humanity was incorrect.

The reviewers failed to articulate themselves intelligently.

They merely typed out, "Trish is a demon. Your [sic] stupid."

The author remains ready to argue some more, and hopes that those wishing to challenge her would be nice and not what scholars consider "Internet-made idiots."

* * *

As a psychology major her third year of college, the author has come across discussions of two things: The Oedipus and Electra Complexes.

The Oedipus Complex was proposed by the famous Sigmund Freud. The Electra Complex comes from Carl Jung, a Neo-Freudian who made a name for himself by challenging Freud's theories as well as developing some of his own.

The concepts are a bit hard to explain without getting too involved in the terminology. The author will try her best.

Basically, as a child develops socially from the interactions of others, he or she begins developing a sexual identity through different levels. This is called psychosexual development.

From Wikipedia, _"__In__Freudian__psychology__,__psychosexual development__is a central element of the __psychoanalytic__sexual drive theory__, that human beings, from birth, possess an__instinctual__libido__(sexual appetite) that develops in five stages. Each stage — the__oral__, the__anal__, the __phallic__, the__latent__, and the__genital__— is characterized by the__erogenous zone__that is the source of the libidinal drive.__Sigmund Freud__proposed that if the child experienced sexual frustration in relation to any psychosexual developmental stage, s/he would experience __anxiety__that would persist into adulthood as a__neurosis__, a functional mental disorder."_

Sigmund Freud observed that during certain stages of a child's development, their behavior was oriented towards particular body parts, such as the mouth during breast feeding and the anus during potty training, and so on.

The Oedipus Complex happens during the phallic stage.

Aside from discovering their own bodies and possibly playing "Doctor" with other children, a child's decisive psychosexual experience is the Oedipus Complex. This is the father-son competition for the mother, and it can be interpreted sexually and what not.

The name of the complex comes from the Greek mythologic character who unwittingly kills his own father and sexually possesses his mother. Incest, yes. He had no idea at the time of these things.

The same complex happens to girls, according to Carl Jung. It's the mother-daughter competition for the psychosexual possession of the father. This is called the Electra complex, which also comes from the Greeks as the tale of a girl who plots the murder of her mother and step-father with her brother to avenge the death of her father.

Basically, it boils down to contests between the same-sexes for sexual possession of the opposite.

* * *

It's all incest, yes. More metaphorical than literal, but incest nonetheless.

What the author is getting at is this: Sparda, Dante's father, is a legendary figure. All that is known of him is through the tales of others. Dante, as a son, inherits much of Sparda's characteristics to the point that many demons remark to the similarities. Beowulf could smell the blood of a traitor when Dante walked in, and Nevan mentioned that Sparda was a handsome devil; Dante is considered "no slouch" himself.

Regarding Sparda's death, the canon doesn't really say if Dante was too young to remember his father, but the viewer can pick up that he was because of the things Eva told him, as though Sparda had already passed. (Dante says his mom told him that his father was a good man – the Demon World would tell him differently of his father, what with him turning his back on demon kind and all.)

Dante is constantly compared to his father. He is constantly reminded of him, and one could say he's feeling the heat of the competition. He's been feeling it since before he can remember.

* * *

That's where the Oedipus Complex comes into play.

Dante is constantly compared and reminded of his father, to the point that demons mistake him for Sparda himself. (Recall the death of Phantom and his near-death hallucination of Sparda – "What? The Legendary Sparda? It can't be…" To which Dante replies, "You're right. I'm his son, Dante! Sweet dreams.")

He may not show it, but he might be feeling inferior. He feels like he's gotta step it up or be forgotten in the shadow of Sparda. Perhaps that's why Dante's such a campy show-off.

* * *

Sparda's origins and choices are what killed Eva. There is no denying that, and Dante knows it.

The tragic loss of his mother, possibly right in front of his eyes, strengthens Dante's attachment to her; so much that he's been called a Mama's Boy. (It's in the novels, but it's a good description.) Her memory is one he can't let go. Her death is a trauma Dante will never recover from.

The strength he holds her memory to, how often he mentions it during the game, and the legendary status of his father make for an unhealthy love that manifests itself strongly in Dante's interactions with Trish.

* * *

The possibility of Trish acting as a proxy romantic interest hints further at Dante's Oedipus Complex. She resembles his mother, causing him to trust her sooner than he should have as well as save her life despite her betrayal.

Their partnership and relationship status in the anime and DMC4 bring up further questions that may be too disturbing to answer.

It's an answer that many Dante/Trish shippers give in fan fictions and lemons abound, and maybe they're doing it unconsciously. They don't know why they ship it. They just do.

* * *

Dante's Oedipus Complex is purely unconscious, meaning he's not doing it on purpose. It's the way his psychology developed in reaction to the circumstances that shaped his being.

It is how his brain adapted to cope with the trauma his young mind suffered.

* * *

When the author created Rena as the result of a Dante/Trish union, she didn't consider the incestual implications of it all. She didn't think of Trish as Dante's mom, no matter if she looked like her. She considered her to be her own person with her own identity and that she and Dante would get together once he saw she was someone else.

In other words, she would get knocked up once Dante tricked his brain into thinking he wasn't banging his mom.

By odd extension, Dante's own daughter may suffer an Electra Complex. She is in a competition with Trish to be the only woman in his life, to win his approval and attentions, and wants to be a lot like him as well as a demon hunting partner. This isn't exactly an appropriate father-daughter relationship.

Rena's relationship with her father is almost as unhealthy as Eva's posthumous relationship with Dante.

* * *

All this psychology and philosophy talk is all a part of the story behind the fic. And it's over now. The author is done with the heavy stuff and has left it open for discussion.

Citations can be provided if you're interested.

Moving on now.

* * *

Badfic was mentioned earlier.

While DWLAD doesn't encompass all the bad things that make for Badfic, it has more than plenty.

More or less the author's first fan fiction, it suffered from her lack of knowledge. She did not format properly. The first chapter is primarily big blocks of text with dialogue not separated from the rest. A rule of any fiction writing is that most dialogue gets its own paragraph.

Paragraphs start appearing more frequently in the chapters that follow.

However, because of the stretches of time between each update, the author's writing style completely changes.

This is evident in the word choices, sentence structures, and focal points of scenes.

The reader does see that the author is maturing as a writer, but her growth between updates makes for a very messy story that's hard to follow and stay into. The end product is faulty, and it's changed so much since the beginning it's hardly recognizable.

The author also went from calling herself FalchionSeal to The Soup.

Also, the release of _Devil May Cry 3: Dante's Awakening_ opened up a new case of guns and money that the author wasn't sure how to deal with in the fic and it caused quite back lash.

* * *

The author tried keeping the fic in regular DMC fashion with attempts at chilling imagery and strange happenings. There was also some throw-backs to creatures that had shown up somewhere in the series.

While some fan fics leave out the dressings of the canon world, hinting at canon was one thing the author did sort of okay, but it isn't enough to help the fic redeem itself.

* * *

The author made a horrible mistake early on in the fic mentioning Dante being a virgin and blah blah blah. This is a mark of out-of-characterness for Dante. Big no-no.

Everybody knows Dante is full of hot libido as well as the proud owner of a poster featuring a one-eyed babe hiding her nips with stars while a rocket blasts off behind her.

In the manga the stripper-prostitutes-not-really-sure-which ladies at Love Planet seem to know him pretty well. There's his reputation in the first DMC novel that is brought up after an important plot point.

The evidence is tallied up.

We're pretty sure Dante's given lots of random bar floozies a good tramboning.

* * *

All the characters in this fic are poorly portrayed. OOC-ness abound, and not a thing can save them.

We've already critiqued Rena as a character as well as the choice of Trish as her mother. It boils down to bad writing, lack of research, and psychological incest with an existential question mark.

* * *

The plot of the fic is as horrible as the writing that made it available on . Not only lacking a coherent and thought-out structure, it also lacks logic and genuine emotion.

**Dante is a smart guy who has saved the human world more than once** – there's no way he would easily agree on his inexperienced daughter joining him on a mission as dangerous as rescuing Trish from the Mundus-is-a-bastard demon hordes. He would more than likely either to force her to stay home or trick her into staying because as a dad, we hope he wouldn't allow her to go out of love of some sort.

(For more reference on how Dante would possibly take care of Rena in this aspect, refer to the character of Patty featured in the anime.)

**Is it possible that Mundus came back after so many years? **Could be.

**Would he feel the need to recreate another Griffon and send it to go kidnap another creation, Trish? **Probably not – although Mundus wants revenge on Dante, he'd be more likely to go about it differently. Trish was a failure and a traitor. Why mess with that shit again?

**Would Mundus set up camp in another abandoned castle on another secret island? **Who knows. He might just like tropical locations, but really it didn't work the first time so he's more likely planning a lovely European cruise. He likes statues a lot, so he might consider Rome for another world domination location. Even Greece – he'd get all the blue waters and white pillars he can conjure up and then some more from the historic architects.

**Would Lucia, the main female character in the fandom-disgraced Devil May Cry 2, randomly show up just in time to assist in an investigation? Would she and Dante have kept contact at all?** The author admits she only put Lucia in the fic because she was the only other female in Dante's life at the time, he needed a partner, and there was a need for some female-based conflict with the Lucia-Rena and Trish-Lucia dynamics. The majority of DWLAD was written before Devil May Cry 3, so Lady wasn't even known to the author.

Honestly, if the third came had come out before the author started this fic, it probably would have turned out a lot better. Lady would have shown up instead of Lucia.

That doesn't mean the fic would suck any less.

**Why would Dante have given his thirteen-year-old daughter guns and live ammo? **The author wants to call bad parenting, but then again… Dante's different. This is a hard question to answer considering Dante's own unique upbringing.

**Is Trish really the mother type? Is Dante really made out to be a father? **Not really. Demon slaying doesn't leave a lot of time for parenting, and the two of them are really not the best role models. While there isn't enough time to devote to raising offspring, there's enough time for them to go about the motions making one.

* * *

About the fic: the author planned certain plot points to be explained further – Rena's possession by Mundus and her status as an accident.

The possession plot device involved Mundus infecting Rena's mind, exaggerating her doubts and insecurities. It was going to escalate from her merely acting strangely at certain points to her full on out trying to kill her father with skills she definitely would not have acquired naturally in so short of time. The possession is Mundus' newest torture device for Dante – it was to be an ultimate form of revenge, yadda yadda yadda.

And Rena was really going to be dead, from a plot twist involving Dante's accidental sword slip. Dead-dead. But she wasn't going to stay dead – much like her mother, she was going to come back to life… after a conversation with her dead grandparents and uncle who bestow upon her new abilities and hope, yadda yadda yadda.

The possession regards Dante's feelings as well. Rena really was an accident. She was not a planned baby, and you could almost say she was an abomination because of the now-revealed psychologically messed up circumstances of her birth. The basic plot line of that was that Dante was not ready to be a father and went about acting like dick until one day his feelings changed.

So the possession mind-fuck would have some truth to it. Rena could be allowed to feel legitimately pissed about it all, but really most kids nowadays aren't planned. Just ask all the teen moms.

* * *

The author grows weary of this discourse.

She feels she has exhausted the subject of this fic. We're pretty sure she's made it clear that this fan fic has lived its life and is done.

The story is unfinished, but the writing will not go on.

The author will tell you how it ends: Rena comes back to life, the heroes rush in to defeat Mundus in another Big Baddie Confrontation scene with lots of fireballs and special effects (Rena will somehow know about Dante telling Mundus to give his regards to his son last time and make an unfunny remark), they rescue Trish, fly back home, fill mom in on what happened while she was away, marvel at the hole in their ceiling, and laugh it off.

Then the phone rings, guy on the other end has the password and they're nearby, and it's show time again.

Final shot: Rena trying to kick down the door and instead hurting herself. Parents lifting her up, and on a count, three boots connect with wood and send it flying.

BLACK OUT.

ROLL CREDITS.

PLAY CHEESY FIGHT MUSIC.

* * *

And that's it readers.

This is the last chapter of the fan fiction experience that was _Dance With Life And Death_.

There will be no more after this, ever.

The author has told the story, the Story Behind the Fic, history, psychology and philosophy bits, and random things that you probably didn't need to know.

What it all comes down to is this: _a beginning writer, who created an original character and attempted to write her first fan fiction epic, has grown up and moved on. _She still loves _Devil May Cry_ and will write in the fandom still, but Rena is being put to rest.

Rena will be deleted off the internet at some point once this chapter has sat up here long enough, stuffed in a box in the back of the author's closet, and forever silenced. Her annoying commentary will cease to be. Her fake wisdom will be forgotten. Her blatant copy-catting of her father will kick the proverbial bucket. Her genetic ties to any canon characters will be cut. She will give back any guns and weapons and abilities she received and will be shoved away some place dark where the author doesn't have to think about her anymore.

Dante and Trish will receive complimentary gallons of brain bleach and amnesia infliction for their cooperation. Any evidence of parenthood and baby making has been removed from their history permanently. Trish's womb has been returned to mint condition and Dante will revert from faithful husband to a commitment phobe tramboning random female orifices.

Lucia will go back to being a character nobody cares about.

Mundus will be locked away in his void again, hopefully to never be seen again unless Capcom decides to bring him back.

So it goes.

The author wishes to thank the reviewers who actually enjoyed this story and Rena as character. There's a few of them out there. Thank you for waiting for the long updates and pushing through the horribleness.

It's been fun, but now it's over.

We can all go back to our lives now.

If you enjoyed the philosophical and psychological points briefly touched on, feel free to shot the author a message be it e-mail or personal message.

You can also follow her on Twitter, tehsoupie. Or not. Completely up to you.

In the words of Douglas Adams, "So long, and thanks for all the fish."

* * *

R.I.P.  
RENA SPARDA

2004 – 2012

_Born into this world with good intentions.  
Good intentions pave the road to hell._

_She did her duty._

_Hi ho._

* * *

_THE END  
FOR GOOD_


End file.
